My Side of the Story
by mila-uri113
Summary: BIG TIME Season Five spoilers. Basically what I think is really going on 'behind the scenes'. Written from Vaughn's POV.
1. Chapter 1

**My Side of the Story**

**Disclaimer: **Alias and the characters belong to JJ Abrams and the nice people at Bad Robot. The beginning part of this story was written by them, I've just novelized it here because it adds to the plot. In other words, this is my way of coping, please don't sue.

**Author's Note:** Watching the first epsiodes of Season Five again, I started thinking that maybe it was Gordon Dean's plan to have Vaughn fake his death - maybe he needs something from him. So, I've started from the beginning of "Prophet Five", novelizing that one from Vaughn's point of view. I've added scenes that we didn't see in the show - stuff I think might have happened that we don't know about yet. The rest of this story will be updated as this season of the show progresses. Kind of my 'missing scenes' interpretation. Hence the tile, 'my side of the story'. Anyway, hope it's at least entertaining if nothing else. Please review- I want to see what people think so I know whether or not to continue doing this after every episode! I'll stop rambling now.

OOOOO

When I came to after the accident, I was seated – rather haphazardly at that – in a steel chair in a whitewashed interrogation room. There was a guard by the door, and a bare table in front of me. It took me a minute to realize that I wasn't restrained. I tried to move, and a shockwave of pain went through my left shoulder. Once the hazy feeling from the pain cleared, I realized it was dislocated.

I looked over at the guard. He glanced at me and went right back to staring at the wall, so I knew trying to get answers from him was out of the question. I set myself to looking around the room, trying to find something that might give me a clue where I was. The last thing I remembered was telling Sydney that my real name wasn't Michael Vaughn, and then hearing shattering glass right by the side of my head.

And then I woke up here.

I looked over at the door on the right side of the room when I heard it open. Another man, probably in his mid-thirties or even his forties, stepped into the room. He had brown hair and wore a tailored suit. He smirked a little as he came in.

"Been hearing about you for a long time," he started. He grabbed the chair from the far side of the room, bringing it over to the table and sitting across from me. "It's nice to finally meet you, Mister Michaux." He paused, smiling a little at the fact that he knew my real name. "You've had a bad day."

"Where's Sydney?" I questioned, not interested in whatever game he was trying to play with me.

"She's in better shape than you," he stated, not answering my question. I knew whomever he worked for orchestrated the accident and pulled me out, and I didn't know if they had Sydney as well. If they did, I had to make sure she was safe before figuring out how to get myself out of here. "Your shoulder's dislocated," the man continued. "We'll take care of that. I, uh…"

He trailed off, looking over to the side of the table. When he came in, he'd set a package down there, wrapped in a brown envelope. He reached for it now, sliding it over to me as he spoke.

"I believe this was intended for you," he stated. I didn't move, and he smiled a little at that. "Oh, come on. Don't tell me you're not curious. Open it."

I reached forward with my good arm, opening the package. There was a silver tape recorder inside. I pressed 'play', and the rather mechanical sound of the Mexican Hat Dance filled the room. I stopped the recording, tossing the tape recorder back on the table.

"Catchy, but dated," I snapped. The other man shook his head a little as he picked the tape recorder up, opening the back panel. He removed the battery, unscrewing the bottom and pulling out a small slip of paper, rolled up tightly to fit into the hidden compartment.

_Damn, these guys are good._

"You mind telling me what this says?" he asked, handing the paper to me. I unrolled it, seeing a long sequence of numbers typed onto the paper. It was a code, naturally.

"5-7-3-8-4," I started reading numbers off the sheet, playing stupid for the time being. I knew if the guy had the slightest idea what was going on, he expected just that reaction. Unfortunately, it didn't seem to have much of an effect on his mood, which I knew didn't speak very well for me.

"We know what this is about," he interrupted, cutting me off. "We know who sent it. What we don't know is, where's Lehman?"

"Who?" I asked, feigning ignorance. He didn't budge.

"You must be in a lot of pain. Maybe that's why your memory is a bit fuzzy," he stated, nodding a little to the guard by the door, and to a second that entered the room with him. "Why don't we help Mister Michaux out?"

One of the guards circled around behind my chair and grabbed my injured arm. I clenched my teeth, trying to prepare myself for the pain I knew would hit the second he twisted my shoulder.

_This is going to hurt._

The guards kept that up for an hour or so, keeping my face pressed against the table and moving my dislocated shoulder around. By the time the guy behind me finished twisting my shoulder, it felt like half my body was on fire with pain.

"Just tell us what we want to know," the man interrogating me stated. "I'm tired of playing these games."

"Quitter," I spat. The guard tightened his grip, and I jerked with the pain, almost screaming again. "Ow," I muttered through clenched teeth.

"Are you really going to hold you until we kill you?" the other man asked. I wanted to say 'if that's what it takes', but I couldn't get the words out past the pain in my shoulder. "I can respect that. Seems Mister Michaux needs a little incentive. Go down the hallway to his fiancé. Bring her in." He paused. "Just her finger." The guard let go of me.

"Leave her out of this," I snapped.

"And that's up to you, isn't it?" the man asked. He looked up at the guard behind me. "The one with the ring." He started heading for the door. I took a second to catch my breath, trying to shake off the ache in my arm. "Kind of poetic, don't you think?"

"Stop," I said finally. The guard froze. "The message. It's in code. I need a pencil."

That bought me a little time. The interrogation paused for a moment while the guy went to find a pencil somewhere. He brought it back, laying out the paper in front of me and setting the pencil on the table beside it.

I didn't move.

"Is there a problem?" he asked.

"I can't write," I said honestly. "Would you mind setting my shoulder?" I figured with everything else this guy knew about me, he already knew I was left-handed, and that I could hope to write clearly with my left shoulder dislocated. The man circled the table, grabbing my shoulder and snapping it back into place. I cried out at the shock of pain, taking just a second to get my bearings before hitting the man in the face.

He fell back. I grabbed the back of his head, slamming his face into the edge of the table and then kneeing him in the stomach. He fell back into the corner. The guard came at me. He was a lot easier to get a hold of than the other guy, and I slammed him facedown on the table. I grabbed the nice, sharp pencil, leveling it at his eye.

"Where's Sydney?" I demanded. "Where is she? Answer me!"

"She escaped!" the guard finally replied.

_Thought so._

I threw him back into the corner of the room, kicking him in the face. I knew that there would be more guards on the way soon. Going out the door was out of the question – I had to get the hell away from here and I had to do it now. I didn't have enough energy for a fight, and I was betting they knew that.

Luckily, there was a vent in the ceiling.

I knocked the panel to the side, hauling myself into the air vent. I crawled through the duct until I was pretty sure there was a good distance between the guards and me. I jumped out another vent, finding I was on either the second or third floor of the building. I didn't have time to look for a better way out – I was going to have to jump.

I popped the screen out one of the windows easily enough, jumping out and falling into a dumpster. The fall still hurt like hell, despite the slight cushion the pile of trash offered me. Still, I got right to my feet and took off running.

OOOOO

The first thing I did once I was sure no one was following me was find a payphone. I figured the guard was telling me the truth, that Sydney had escaped capture somehow, but I had to be sure she was all right. I dialed her cell phone, and she picked up almost immediately.

"Hello?" she asked.

"Sydney, you okay?" I asked.

"Thank god," she said with a sigh, sounding more than a little relieved to hear my voice on the other end. "I'm fine – hang on." She was silent for a moment, and I figured she was going somewhere she could talk. "Are you okay?"

"I'm fine," I said.

"Where are you?" she asked.

"Look, I know you have questions," I replied, not telling her where I was. I didn't know exactly what was going on at APO, but considering my evident extraction by some other agency; I knew they'd be looking at everything. And, frankly, there were quite a few things I had to answer for. I couldn't have them knowing where I was.

"About a million of them," Sydney replied.

"I'll tell you everything as soon as I can, but Sydney, no one can know you're talking to me," I insisted. "I need my father's watch. You need to get it to me. Do you remember the dead drop we used to contact Vesina? The lockers?" I questioned.

"Of course I do," she started. There was a pause. "I don't know."

"Syd, please, I _need_ you to do this for me," I pleaded. I knew there wasn't a whole lot of time – I needed to get somewhere with all of this before these people found me again.

"I need to think about it," Sydney replied before she hung up the phone. I sighed, not moving for a moment and silently begging her to trust me on this. Finally, I hung up the payphone and started off.

OOOO

I was hoping it wouldn't take Sydney long to think over what I asked her to do. That, and I hoped that she would just trust me long enough to explain all of this, rather than hand me over to APO or whoever else had called an investigation by now. I was able to figure out that I'd been out for about two and a half days, so I knew things couldn't be too out of hand yet, but they'd sure get that way, and fast.

So, by that afternoon, I was at the lockers I asked Sydney to use to get me the watch. I went inside, keeping to the shadows just in case. I went to the locker, opening it.

Empty.

_Dammit._

I sighed, shaking my head a little and closing the locker. I couldn't meet with Lehman without the watch – he'd never tell me a thing. If Sydney didn't at least trust me enough to give it to me, I was at a loss.

"You looking for this?" My head snapped up, and I looked over to see Sydney. She stepped up beside me, holding the watch up for me to see. "I want the truth. Start with your name."

"Andre Michaux," I answered. "I'll tell you the rest on the way."

OOOOO

Sydney and I walked to another building on the other side of town – the place that Lehman's note wanted me to meet him. Luckily, the code he used to contact me was fairly basic – I was able to make sense of it even without writing it out somewhere. I figured at least there was one thing the people interrogating me hadn't counted on that ended up working out in my benefit. As we made our way to the room where the meet would actually take place, I started explaining.

"Seven years ago, a woman came to me. Said that her father had been involved in a project – something people had gone to great lengths to cover up," I started. "She said my father was part of it. She said it was called Prophet Five."

"Your father was an agent," Sydney started, obviously confused.

"Before he joined the CIA," I clarified. "She said his name was Michaux, that he was a mathematician." The two of us got into one of the freight elevators, heading for the top floor. "The day you walked into the CIA, you described a mission to secure a device made by a man named Mueller. The same man I was told had originated the Prophet Five project. Now, this was my first proof that this woman's story was true.

"But, whatever it was, my father was running away from it. He changed his identity, he changed mine. I was eighteen months old at the time," I continued. "This man we're meeting, James Lehman. Renee and I have been trying to find him for _years_. We believe he worked with our fathers."

"Renee who? Who is this woman?" Sydney asked. I took a breath, knowing this one was going to get me in trouble.

"Renee Rienne," I answered. Sydney gave me one of her 'what the hell were you thinking' looks.

"Vaughn," she started, chiding me for working with someone near the top of the CIA's most-wanted list. Before I could say anything to defend the fact that I was working with her, the elevator lurched to a stop. I hit the button a couple of times, trying to get it to start working. After a moment, it shook and started down again.

It stopped in the basement. I moved in front of Sydney, not sure what was happening and wanting to be between her and whatever might be on the other side of the door. It slid open, and I was greeted by the beam of a flashlight in my face.

"The watch. Show it to me," a man's voice said from somewhere behind the light. I held up my father's watch, and the flashlight clicked off. When my vision cleared after a moment, I realized that the older man standing here with us must be Lehman. "You were supposed to come alone."

"Whatever you say to me, she can hear," I replied. Lehman seemed to consider that for a moment, and then nodded a little.

"Follow me." He led us further into the basement room; somewhere that I imagined no one had visited in a very long time. Everything was covered in rust, and there wasn't a whole lot of light until Lehman went to a breaker box, flipping the switch and illuminating the room. "Before I start, you should know, your father did everything he could to protect you from this."

"Mister Lehman, I want to know about Prophet Five," I stated, not listening to any of his warnings. I knew my father didn't want me in the middle of this, but it was way too late for that. The only thing I could hope for now was some kind of an answer about all of this.

"I was a cryptologist," Lehman began, sensing my frustration. "A specialist in patterns. Working for the Pentagon. In 1972, a private foundation recruited me, along with others. Scientists, linguists; the best and the brightest. That's where I met your father."

"What was the objective?" I asked.

"We were given one page of the book. The Profecta Chinque. The Fifth Prophet," Lehman continued. "The fifteenth century text that supposedly had been written in an unbreakable code."

"They wanted you to break the code," Sydney threw in. Lehman nodded. "Were you successful?"

"After years, yes," Lehman answered. "It referred to proteins, amino acids, nucleotides. It seemed to be some sort of advanced genetics five hundred years ahead of its time. Just a few days after we turned in our report, your father contacted me. He told me what was happening to the others. Accidents, car crashes, fires, heart attacks, strokes; all people involved with the project. So I followed your father's advice. Changed my name. I disappeared."

"What's changed now? Why did you contact us?" I questioned, confused. If he'd been safe and hidden somewhere, why come forward now?

"Over the years, I've developed sources, leads as to where the book might be stored. But all of my attempts at recovery have failed," he answered.

"You have another lead," Sydney finished for him. There was a pause.

"These people, whoever they are – when they know you're onto it, they'll stop at _nothing_ to silence you," Lehman warned. I jumped in before he could say anything more to try and talk Sydney and I out of this.

"I'll contact you when I have the book."

OOOOO

That night, before we could even leave to track down the book, I got a call. Sydney and I had a hotel room under an alias – there was no way anyone should have been able to track it. Still, the front desk rang up to our room a little after one AM, telling me that I had a phone call in the lobby. The caller had specifically asked for me to come downstairs to take the call.

So, leaving Sydney asleep in the room, I went down to the front desk. The attendant gave me the phone and some privacy. I didn't know who the hell could be calling in the middle of the night, but something just didn't seem right, and I couldn't just leave it alone.

"Hello?" I answered.

"You're going to a lot of trouble to track down information you have no business knowing," a male voice said on the other end of the line. I didn't recognize the voice, and it didn't sound like it had been altered. Even so, I had no way of finding out who it was – I didn't have any gear with me that would have allowed me to trace the call or even record his voice.

"Who is this?" I questioned.

"Allow me to explain the situation to you, Mister Vaughn," the man replied. "You are trying to steal something that belongs to me. Something you do not want to get involved with."

"I'm hanging up now," I stated.

"Do that and you will both be dead before you can get back to your hotel room." I froze in mid-motion, moving my hand away from the base of the phone. "Thank you." There was a pause. "Now, you have something I need, and for that I am willing to cut you a deal."

"What deal?" I asked quietly, my eyes scanning the lobby and looking for anyone that might be suspicious. Obviously the guy on the phone could see me, and probably had more than one other person here watching Sydney and me.

"Get the book. Take it to the meet Lehman suggests. My team will intercept you there and retrieve the book from you," the man explained.

"Why even let me get it in the first place if you're just going to take it back?" I questioned.

"Because when my team retrieves the book, you and Mister Lehman will be executed." I had to try not to laugh.

"And how exactly is that a 'deal'?" I hissed.

"Lehman will be killed, but you will be wearing squibs and my man will shoot blanks at you. You will be transported to a nearby medical facility where I will have already replaced the staff with my operatives. They will clean you up under the pretense of performing surgery, and give you a reasonable dose of sodium morphate. Once we've established that you are, in fact, dead, you will be extracted and revived."

"You want Sydney to believe I'm dead," I realized, fighting to keep from raising my voice in anger.

"I want to save the woman you love from certain death, Mister Vaughn," the man replied, not losing his patient tone despite my anger. "Surely you understand by now the resources I have access to. We will leave Sydney, and everyone else, believing you are dead, and extract you to a secure facility in a separate location. There, you will give me what I need from you. Prophet Five will remain contained, and Sydney will be spared."

"You're insane if you think I'm agreeing to this," I snapped.

"Am I?" he asked. "Think it over, Mister Vaughn. I will give you until the night after you retrieve the manuscript. You'll know how to contact me when you check out tomorrow. If you refuse, I will see to it that Sydney Bristow is killed in your place. And, believe me, it won't be quick."

With that, he hung up.

I felt sick.

I didn't know who these people were, how they were able to track us like this, but I knew that we didn't stand a chance going up against them. If we could get the book and get it to Lehman, there was still a chance that everything would work out, though. If I told Sydney what was going on or found some way to fool these people, we could still pull this off.

Agreeing to this psycho's demands was out of the question. I didn't know what he wanted from me, and I didn't have any guarantee that he was telling me the truth in the first place. Even if his whole speech about 'squibs' and his man 'shooting blanks' was true, even if he meant it about the sodium morphate, I didn't have any proof he wouldn't just leave me for dead.

Of course, I didn't have any way of knowing that he wouldn't kill Sydney if I didn't do what he said.

For the moment, however, I was resigned not to go along with it. Sydney and I would get the book and contact Lehman, and then we would go from there.


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer: **same

**Author's Note: **Thanks for the reviews! Here's chapter 2!

OOOOO

Lehman told us to go to a location in Cape Town. That the book was being held there, in the home of a man he assumed worked as a part of the group that recruited him for the original study – the people that orchestrated the car accident in Santa Barbara and tried to get me to tell them where Lehman was. There was a party being held, giving Sydney and I the perfect opportunity to sneak in and steal the book from the safe in the office.

"Your invitation, please," the man at the door told us. Sydney, wearing fancy clothes and a blonde wig and a ridiculous-looking pair of sunglasses, looked over at me.

"Honey, show the man," she said in French.

"You didn't bring it?" I asked in the same language. We'd planned some of this out, but it sounded better if it was improvised, so for the most part we were winging it.

"You were supposed to," Sydney replied.

"No, I specifically asked you-" She interrupted.

"No, when I was getting ready, you asked if I-"

"I asked if you had room in your purse." She stopped, smiling and looking embarrassed. She looked back at the other man, who was smiling a little at our apparent argument over who forgot the invitation.

"My husband is right," Sydney admitted in heavily accented English, smiling and trying to be as charming as possible as she reached back to put one hand against my cheek. "It is my fault."

"Go ahead," the man offered.

"_Merci_," Sydney said with a smile as the man stepped aside, allowing us entry to the party.

Once we were inside, Sydney snatched a flute of champagne off one of the trays. She dumped the liquid out, holding the glass out for me. I pulled a flask out of my pocket, re-filling the glass with a different liquid. It was about the same color as champagne, and whoever was unlucky enough to end up with it was going to be very sick shortly after drinking it.

I said something to one of the waiters, saying something about some of the guests on the other side of the room. Sydney switched the glasses, and we made our way out back. There were lots of other people out here, most talking or getting food from the buffet tables, but some of them were dancing. I took Sydney onto the dance floor, picking right up with the music.

"You're waltzing!" she said, smiling and sounding rather surprised. I smiled back at her.

"Yep. I've been practicing for our wedding," I told her.

"With who?" she asked.

"Weiss," I answered with a laugh. She laughed at that, obviously trying to imagine Weiss teaching me how to waltz. I decided against telling her that he'd probably taken a couple dozen pictures to try and embarrass me with, figuring they'd make their appearance eventually anyway.

Suddenly, one of the guests to the side of the yard collapsed. The unfortunate victim of the toxin I put in the champagne flute. As most of the other people went to make sure he was all right, Sydney and I went back into the house. She headed for the junction box to disarm the alarm, and I went to the office to break into the safe.

I had to search the office for a moment, finally finding the safe behind one of the panels against the back wall. My cell phone rang – Sydney.

"Hey, I found the junction box," she said when I picked up.

"Ready when you are," I replied.

"It's been customized. Hang on, I'll call you right back," she replied, hanging up. I closed my phone, trying not to let my nerves get the best of me as I waited for her to call back. Only a few moments passed before I heard someone coming. I quickly closed the panel over the safe, looking back at the door just as it swung open. A young blonde girl stepped into the office, slightly tipsy and holding a bottle of champagne.

"Just admiring the collection," I said off her questioning look, adding an accent that I kind of made up on the fly as I spoke. I smiled a little, looking around the room.

"It's pretty gruesome if you ask me," she said with a slight shrug. "Dad's really into guns. I think he's over-compensating." She grinned. "You're Walter, aren't you?"

"What gave me away?" I asked with a smile. _Hell, if she's going to invent an alias for me, I might as well just play along…_

"Dad's always going on about the new guy at work," she answered. She took a sip straight from the bottle, stepping closer as she did so. I nodded to the bottle.

"Aren't you a little young?" I asked.

"I'm a little young to be stuck at this snore-fest," she shot back, smiling. She stepped closer again. "My dad's threatened by you, you know?"

"I very much doubt that," I replied, trying to sound like I was just being modest.

"Seriously, he's so lame," she continued. "But you're young… Smart… Cute. You know…" She stepped up again until she was maybe six inches from me. "This party would be a lot more fun if we were naked."

"That's not going to happen," I stated firmly. She just raised her eyebrows in question. "You know there are better ways to get back at your father."

"But none involve me… And you," she started. She leaned in, dropping her voice to a whisper. "Or the look he'll get when he sees us having sex on his desk."

"Woah, okay," I said, letting the accent slip slightly as I pushed her away from me. I recovered quickly, figuring she wouldn't notice being as drunk as she was anyway. "Hey. You need to leave now, or Dad's going to find out what his little girl's really like." She glared at me for a moment.

"Jerk," she finally spat before turning and walking out of the office. I sighed in relief, turning back to the safe. I got the panel open just as Sydney called me back, telling me we were good to go on the safe.

I opened it, pulling the book out. I flipped through it for a moment. It was the original copy, still encoded. I shook my head a little, angry that there wasn't anything immediately helpful.

"Oh, Walter." I turned, seeing that the little blonde had come back into the office. She looked at me for a moment, seeing that I obviously wasn't just 'admiring' her father's collection. Then she smiled. "Guess you're getting fired." She hit the alarm.

I brushed past her, tucking the book under my arm and getting out of the building as fast as I could. Ideally, Syd and I would have just walked out the way we came in, and no one would be any the wiser. However, we did have a backup plan to meet at the edge of the cliff that this place was built on.

I threw my suit jacket off as I ran, strapping the parachute harness into place over my chest. It was a compact design, meant to fit under clothing and not be noticeable. I tucked the book into the harness, making sure it was safe there. Sydney was already at the edge of the cliff when I got there.

"We have to go," I told her when I noticed she was somewhat frozen there, the phone to her ear. She hung up, looking blankly out over the cliff.

"The doctor called," she stated. I looked up at her, wondering why the hell she was bringing this up _now_, of all times. "I'm pregnant."

"What?" I asked, thinking maybe I heard her wrong. Before she could respond, I heard yelling and gunfire. I grabbed her, taking both of us over the cliff to relative safety.

OOOOO

We contacted Lehman and set the meet for nine AM the next morning at a nearby train yard. Another alias and fake account later, we had another hotel room. Sydney and I talked for a little while before she finally drifted off.

But I couldn't sleep.

What the hell had I gotten us into? The way things were going, neither one of us stood much chance of making it out of this one. Sure, I could try and warn her, I could warn Lehman, I could change the meet, I could keep running… But what good was that going to do? We couldn't keep running from these people forever. Hell, they already knew where we were and how to track us. I knew if the guy I spoke to the night before didn't want me to have the book, we never would have made it out of that party alive.

And now Sydney was _pregnant_.

That was the one topic of conversation we both spent the rest of the day avoiding, almost like she never even said anything in the first place. There was just so much else going on, throwing that on top of it was like sending my brain into complete overload. I couldn't even hope to process anymore information.

Just as my mysterious caller explained last night, I had all the information I needed to contact him. I glanced at the clock. Eleven-thirty. He'd written on the note to call him by midnight or my reluctance would be seen as a refusal to cooperate. I had no idea what he might do in a half an hour. It could be anything. There could be gunshots, people busting into the room. I could get called away for something and come back to find Sydney missing, or killed. Or, it could be nothing. He could leave me wondering, when is it going to happen? What's he going to do? Make me completely paranoid. Or, he could have been bluffing about the whole thing.

Either way, I didn't have a lot of time to think over my options. Hell, I didn't even _have _many options. Even if I told Sydney the truth and then went along with this plan, she'd refuse to play along. She'd fight to protect me from whatever this guy wanted to do to me, and when she gave up on that she'd insist on investigating Prophet Five on her own. Even if I warned her against it, she'd keep going.

If I wanted to have any hope of protecting her and our baby I only had one option.

I went to the lobby. I found a payphone and I called the number the guy had given me. I leaned against the wall with one hand, trying to keep myself steady despite the way my stomach was turning in knots and my pulse was racing. After three rings, he answered.

"You certainly aren't one for jumping the gun, are you Mister Vaughn?" he asked.

"Guess not," I replied, swallowing thickly and trying to catch a good breath of air despite the way my chest was tightening up.

"I assume I've given you enough time to think over my proposal," he stated.

"Yeah," I answered after a pause.

"And?" I clenched my jaw and squeezed my eyes shut as tight as I could, like some part of me was waiting to wake up from this nightmare. Finally, I let out the breath I'd been holding, and answered his question.

"What do you want me to do?"

OOOOO

I didn't sleep at all that night. I was ready to go before Sydney even woke up, not wanting to risk her realizing the truth in what was about to happen. It took all I had not to warn her, not to tell her that something awful was going to happen when we went to meet Lehman. I wanted like nothing else to tell her everything.

To give the warning I never got.

I kept quiet. She dressed and we got a car. We went to the train yard where we were supposed to meet Lehman. I pulled the car up on the far side of the tracks, right where I'd been instructed to leave it. Lehman would show up on the other side, near one of the stopped trains.

"He said nine. We're early," Sydney observed. I just nodded a little, trying to keep my hands from shaking as I gripped the steering wheel. "Are we just going to sit here and not talk about the thing we're thinking about? Where _are_ you with this, Vaughn?" I looked over at her, already knowing she was talking about the baby. "I just need to know how you feel. Is this something you want?"

"The truth?" I asked, keeping my voice steady as I spoke.

"Of course," she answered with a nod. I sighed, looking away again.

"What we do, the things we see every day…" I shook my head a little. "Honestly, no, I didn't think this was what I wanted. I mean, bringing a baby into this world that is so messed up, I just assumed that… That I'd wait. That _we'd_ wait," I corrected.

"For…?"

"For things to be safe. Or at least safer," I answered. Sydney nodded a little, seeming sad with my response.

"Yeah. I get it," she replied.

"But, looking at you, all I can think about is what our kid is going to be like," I replied with a smile. "I'm not worried about the world. I just… I can't wait to meet this new little person."

"Really?"

"Yeah."

"I mean; it's pretty great, right?" Sydney replied with a grin.

"You're going to be an amazing mom," I assured her. "And, I'm going to be a disaster. I've never changed a diaper."

"Neither have I – we're going to have to call Marshall for an assist!" Sydney joked, laughing. I laughed at that thought as well, shaking my head a little in disbelief.

That was when I saw Lehman. Immediately, my mood changed. I swallowed over the tight lump in my throat; once again feeling all the muscles in my body tense in anticipation of what I already knew was going to happen.

"He's here," Sydney stated. I looked over, seeing that the smile had left her face as well. I fought to keep the tears from springing to my eyes until she couldn't see me anymore. I couldn't afford to have this go the wrong way, or the people that were here to 'kill' Lehman and me would turn their sights on her in an instant. "You should go."

"I'll be right back," I lied. I leaned in, kissing her before I got out of the car. "Start thinking of names," I told her before closing the door. I didn't want to glance back at her, but I couldn't help myself. She smiled a little, trying to be supportive and reassuring.

I turned away again, crossing to the other side of the tracks.

I opened the case I was carrying, handing the book to Lehman. He took a moment to look it over, probably trying to make sure it was the authentic version of the manuscript.

"Can you decode it?" I questioned.

"It'll take a while," he answered. "When I'm done, I'll contact you. From now on, do not initiate contact with me." As he spoke, I heard the nine-o'clock train coming up behind us – the one that would cross the tracks that separated Lehman and I from Sydney. I took a shaky breath, looking over as a black sedan pulled up to where the two of us stood.

An older, black man stepped out of the car, looking at Lehman and me. Lehman tucked the book under his arm, trying to run away. The man raised his gun, shooting Lehman in the back. He went down, dead. Two other cars had pulled up, and the man from my 'interrogation' a few days ago stepped out with an Uzi in hand. I saw another guard with an AK-47 fire a few rounds into Lehman. The other guy readied his weapon and aimed it directly at me.

As he pulled the trigger of the modified gun, the squibs in the vest under my shirt started going off. It was nothing like getting shot, but it still hurt like a son of a bitch. The force was enough to push me back against the train behind me. He paused, and then fired some more shots, making sure all of the squibs went off. Another moment passed before he stopped firing. I slid to the ground, the pain in my chest serving to strand me somewhere between alert and unconscious. The first man, who I assumed had been the one to talk to me on the phone, stepped over to where Lehman was and pulled the book out from under his body.

He and the others got back into their cars. By the time Sydney got to me, they were long gone, and I slipped off into unconsciousness.


	3. Chapter 3

**Disclaimer: **Same goes for the Alias stuff. The song at the end is "Answer" by Sarah McLachlan. (Personally I like it better than "Dirty Little Secret" for the end of Prophet Five. The words of DLS work, but the melody of Answer is better, IMHO.)

**A/N: **I'm gonna go ahead and post Chapter Three - this goes through the end of Prophet Five and Chapter Four is the start of my 'missing scenes' view of all this. If anyone is still interested, please review or I'll just continue posting at SD-1 and not bother here. I'm not trying to sound like a review ho, but unlessI know people are interested, I'm not gonna waste my time.

OOOOO

When I came to at the hospital, I was in a recovery room. There were bandages all over my chest, 'blood' on several of them to maintain a convincing illusion. They were all hidden under a hospital gown, but I knew the details were what mattered. I also knew that if I even thought about telling Sydney I was all right, that I hadn't been shot in the chest some twenty times, we'd both be dead in moments.

I didn't know exactly how much sodium morphate they'd given me, but it was enough to make me drowsy as hell. I tried to focus on what was happening. Sydney was in my room, talking to me softly and running her fingers gently across my forehead. Jack came in a few minutes later, an uncanny amount of emotion on his face.

"Hi," he said with a nod. He looked over at Sydney. "Gordon Dean is a ghost. Well-placed and well-connected." I realized that the man at the train yard, the one that orchestrated this whole thing, must have been Gordon Dean.

_So, you were playing APO at the same time._

"What are we gonna do?" Sydney asked. Jack explained that he had Marshall, Dixon and Weiss working on it – that they were trying to find a way for Sydney and I to get out of dodge before things got really bad. I just closed my eyes at that, reminding myself, yet again, that I couldn't tell them _anything_.

Jack excused himself to the hallway a few minutes later. Sydney went to get me some water, coming back a short while later. She smiled, trying to keep the mood light in spite of this situation.

"I always liked the name Owen," she started. I smiled a little, realizing she really had started thinking of names for the baby. She held the cup out to me, letting me take a drink before setting it on the table.

"Owen. Sounds like something you name a gerbil," I stated.

"Clementine is cute," she continued.

"For a fruit," I replied.

"It's also a name," she told me.

"It's also a campfire song," I stated.

"Okay, you don't like that one," she finally allowed. She was silent for a moment. I knew I didn't have a lot of time before the toxin worked its way through my system. I'd slip back into unconsciousness, and the heart monitor would go wild, signaling that I was in cardiac arrest. A bunch of doctors would swarm in, pretending to shock me and try to revive me. They'd take Sydney out of the room – keep her from noticing anything. After a few minutes, they would give up. They would apologize, say there was nothing more they could do – the damage from the gunshots was too severe to repair. They'd give her a moment, and then take my body away.

And leave Sydney believing I was dead.

"What about Isabelle?" she asked.

"Isabelle Vaughn," I said, trying out how it sounded. "Isabelle Bristow-Vaughn."

"That's pretty," Sydney said. "I like that." I could hear that she was about to start crying. I knew she could tell that I was starting to slip away from her, and there was nothing she could do about it.

"Me too," I said quietly. I finally had to close my eyes, feeling my body starting to shut down on me. I struggled to hang on as long as I could, though I could already feel it slipping. "Sorry, Syd. I'm getting so tired."

"Close your eyes. I'll be right here," she replied.

"Syd… I love you."

"I love you too." I felt her kiss my forehead, and I tried to reach out for her, to keep her warmth there next to me until the last possible second.

But I couldn't move my hand.

I took one last very slow, shaky breath. I heard the monitor beside the bed start to beep frantically, and then everything was gone.

OOOOO

_I will be the answer at the end of the line  
__I will be there for you while you take the time  
__In the burning of uncertainty I will be your solid ground  
__I will hold the balance if you can't look down_

Turned out I'd been right about Gordon Dean – he was the one that called me on the way to Cape Town and told me that he'd spare Sydney's life if I agreed to make her believe I was dead. He revived me that night at the hospital. Explained that my 'body' had been taken care of for the funeral back in Los Angeles.

I didn't even want to hear him explain it to me. I _definitely _didn't want to be there. Watching my own funeral from inside a black sedan in the parking lot, seeing the procession… Looking on as my friends buried me.

It was… Unnerving. Disturbing. Cruel.

Which, I was beginning to learn, was Dean's over all personality in a nutshell. He sat across from me in the back of the sedan, a slight smile on his face as he watched the proceedings.

"Beautiful ceremony, don't you think?" he asked, looking over at me. I just glared at him and didn't say a word. He nodded a little, accepting my silence for the moment, and went back to watching. "Isn't it interesting… How tragedy always seems to pull us all together. Why do you think that is?"

Again, I didn't grant him the satisfaction of a response. Of course, he'd already accounted for the fact that I might try and run off, so he had another man in the back of the car with us, sitting right beside me with an automatic pistol pointed at my ribcage. If I so much as put a hand on the door handle, I really _would _receive some twenty shots to the chest.

"Maybe it's just a need for companionship in times of heartache," Dean continued, not really speaking to me so much as just speaking. "Too much to deal with alone, so we surround ourselves with people who can sympathize. People who can try and make things all better for us…"

_If it takes my whole life I won't break I won't bend_  
_It'll all be worth it worth it in the end  
_'_Cause I can only tell you what I know  
That I need you in my life  
When the stars have all gone out  
You'll still be burning bright _

I tried to pull my eyes away from the scene in front of me, but it was almost as if it was too horrible to look away. Like I had to keep watching in order to convince myself I wasn't dreaming. I watched the doors swing open, and people start to emerge.

The service was over. Dixon, Marshall, Jack, and Weiss had enlisted the help of two other men I sort of knew from Weiss and I's hockey practice to carry the coffin out of the church. They loaded it into the back of a hearse, closing the door.

Of course, there was a body in the coffin. Some nameless person Dean shot and dumped in my place. For security reasons, the coffin had been sealed before it left Cape Town, and wasn't opened again. So, there was no reason for anyone to suspect it wasn't my body they were preparing to bury.

_Cast me gently into morning_  
_For the night has been unkind  
__Take me to a place so holy  
__That I can wash this from my mind  
__The memory of choosing not to fight_

"Ah. There she is," Dean stated, looking over at me with a smile. I clenched my jaw, looking out the window again. I already knew whom he was referring to. I just wasn't sure I was prepared to see her.

Sydney.

She wore solid black, like most everyone else. She watched as they loaded the coffin into the back of the hearse. I saw her father glance back at her, and the sadness that passed between them broke my heart.

I wanted to risk it – I wanted to go for the door handle. Maybe grab the gun and shoot Dean and wrestle the weapon from the guard. Get out of the car and start running. I wanted to scream that I was here, that I was alive, that the whole thing was fake.

I wanted to pull Sydney into my arms and tell her it was all going to be okay.

But I didn't. I stayed still; hands balled into fists so tight my fingernails dug into my palms. I looked over at Dean, seeing that he was watching again, the smile still on his face. After a moment, he looked over at me.

"Well, I think that's enough of that," he said with a sigh. "Let's go."

_If it takes my whole life I won't break I won't bend_  
_It'll all be worth it worth it in the end  
_'_Cause I can only tell you what I know  
__That I need you in my life  
__And when the stars have all burned out  
__You'll still be burning so bright  
__Cast me gently into morning for the night has been unkind_


	4. Chapter 4

**Disclaimer: **same

**A/N: **Thanks to **give-in-to-love** - I appreciate the interest. As a note, I did the same sort of thing in here they did on the show - skipped four months ahead. This chapter is partly between Prophet Five and ...1... and the second part is after ...1... So... Enjoy!

OOOOO

**FOUR MONTHS LATER **

To say my situation had not improved would be an understatement. Instead of being in Los Angeles, back working at APO, or still in Europe trying to track down some answers about Prophet Five, now I was confined to a small room in the basement of a building in the middle of nowhere. There was a steel cot bolted to the wall with a scratchy wool blanket, and a single light hanging from the center of the ceiling. And, unless the people that put me here needed my help, they left me locked in here for hours on end, bringing food in a couple of times a day and otherwise ignoring me completely.

No matter what else was going on, I kept thinking over that night in Cape Town. About how going along with everything was never my plan. I hated the idea the moment I heard it, and my initial response to these people was 'go to hell'. But, at that time, I didn't know everything.

I didn't know that Sydney was pregnant.

Knowing that, I also realized that I didn't have a choice anymore. Which was why I was now sitting on a cold, steel cot in the basement room of some building, just about as removed from the world as I could get.

I glanced over when the door was opened, seeing the same guy I'd been dealing with since this whole disaster started – Ivan Curtis. I finally learned his name after leaving my funeral, finding he was the closest thing Dean had to a second-in-command, which explained why he was the one to interrogate me after the accident. He reminded me of McKennas Cole in a way – he had that 'I'm better than you' sarcastic personality. Grated on my nerves.

"Well, looks like you're having a riot of a time in here," he said with a smile. "Boss wants to talk to you – come on." I got to my feet, following Curtis out of the small basement room and up to the main-floor office occupied by his 'boss', Gordon Dean. Dean smiled a little, nodding to Curtis. The other man closed the door, leaving Dean and I alone.

"Have a seat," Dean offered, gesturing to a chair on the other side of his desk.

"I'll stand, thanks," I replied, clenching my jaw to try and keep my voice quiet and controlled. I wanted nothing more than to leap across the desk and strangle him, but I knew that I wouldn't gain anything by doing that. At least by playing this cool and helping them for now, I could still hope that maybe I'd make it back to LA at some point. Have the chance to see Sydney again, see our child. That was enough to keep my emotions in check dealing with this slime.

"Suit yourself," Dean said with a nod. He looked down at his desk, leafing through a couple of papers sitting there. "We're not making very good progress on this manuscript."

"I told you what I know. Your guy is the one who killed the person that knew how to decode it properly," I replied with a little shrug.

"And I believe you still have the tool we need to speed this up," Dean continued, his tone not faltering despite my angry tone. I just shook my head, not even going to get into this with him.

"I don't have it, and you damn well know it," I shot back.

"But I believe you know where it is," Dean told me.

"Look, I told you. I showed the watch to Lehman when I met him before going to get the manuscript. I put it in my pocket – I don't know where it is!" I defended, raising my voice. Dean smiled, shaking his head a little.

"Your tone tells me otherwise," he started. "She has it, doesn't she?"

"If you wanted the watch, you should have taken it at the hospital," I snapped. "I'm sorry, but all the toxins you put through me made my memory kind of fuzzy about all of that."

"All right, fair enough," Dean finally allowed. "We're making progress nonetheless, with or without your father's watch to speed things up."

"Is that all you wanted?" I asked.

"Why, you have somewhere else to be?" I sighed, shaking my head and looking away. The blinds were all closed over the windows, so I couldn't see anything that was going on outside the office. After the hospital and then the funeral in Los Angeles, I'd been kept unconscious until I got here. I didn't even know _where _I was anymore. "I'll see you when we have some more information."

Dean buzzed Curtis back into the room, and he escorted me back downstairs to the small room. He didn't bother to say anything to me this time, just locking me back where I came from.

OOOOO

I had no way of keeping track of time locked in that room. Once in a while Dean would tell me what day it was, or let it 'slip' that I'd been there for so many days, weeks, _months_… He was keeping track of the time for some reason – probably just to try and annoy me. Sometimes it worked, other times I'd just ignore him.

The thing that really annoyed me was when he would start dropping hints about Sydney. He'd ask me how I thought she was doing, how her friends or her father were helping her through her 'loss'. For the most part, I tried not to let it get to me. I knew it was just another of his tactics. Trying to break me down, get me to talk to him. I still didn't know exactly what he wanted from me, aside from my father's watch, but I was determined not to give it to him.

After all, once he had what he wanted, he'd probably kill me.

I spent most of my time locked in that room trying to come up with some way to escape. Just running off was out of the question. Dean would track me down without any difficulty if I did that. I had to immobilize his entire organization if I wanted to make it out of there with any hope of ever being safe again.

Until I could figure out how to do that, it was just a matter of not pissing Dean off, but still keeping him from whatever he ultimately wanted out of me. That was going to require a lot more quick thinking than I'd ever used before.

I knew it had been at least four or five days – maybe even a full week – since the last time I saw Dean. I never really knew what his organization was up to. Once in a long while, Dean would say something about an operation or an artifact they were looking to acquire. I'd asked some questions before, but Dean's policy on information was rather strict. If I wanted to know what was happening in the field, I had to give him something he wanted.

My thoughts were interrupted when someone came down and unlocked the door, led me upstairs. It wasn't Curtis, which I immediately found strange. He'd been the only one I dealt with so far, aside from Dean and a couple of other random guards here and there. He'd been the one to orchestrate everything in the field anyway, so I figured he wanted to keep an eye on me.

Of course I knew better than to ask the guy leading me upstairs any questions about what was happening. He was just another of the nameless guards I'd seen. I probably wouldn't ever see him again, so it didn't really matter. He let me into Dean's office, closing the door. Dean looked tired, his suit jacket draped over the back of the chair and his sleeves rolled up to his elbows. He looked over at me.

_Okay, something's obviously up with this._

Dean stared at me for a moment, and then went back to looking at the papers on his desk. I'd never seen him like this – so unhinged.

"So, the most interesting thing happened last night," he started, shaking his head a little. I noticed immediately that he wasn't smiling anymore – it was the first time I'd seen him without that cocky grin, and it made me even more curious as to what the hell happened. "I had a package scheduled for delivery to North Korea. Shouldn't have been a problem – the flight had diplomatic immunity thanks to some of my contacts. Curtis went to oversee the whole thing, very basic, easy transfer.

"And then the _strangest _thing happens. The plane circles around, lands in US-friendly territory, and I get the word that Curtis took a dive out the emergency exit from the cargo hold," Dean continued, circling around the desk as he spoke.

"He's dead?" I questioned. Dean looked over at me, nodding.

"Oh yeah. He's dead, all right," he replied, sighing a little. "My best man gets taken down in the field, and my package gets re-routed to the US." He smiled at me a little, though the expression was more malicious than anything. "But even that isn't the kicker." He paused, going back around to the desk. "Would you like to know what the _real_ kicker is?"

I didn't respond. I wasn't real sure where he was going with this, but I could tell by the look on his face and the tone of his voice that he wasn't particularly happy with me. I didn't want to provoke him.

"We have video surveillance from the meet that was supposed to get me my package, and pictures from where the plane landed," Dean continued. He held out a folder for me. "Tell me if you notice anything… Interesting."

I took the folder, my heartbeat pounding in my ears. I glanced at him once more, still unsure what he wanted me to see, and then I opened the folder. There were two piles of grainy surveillance shots, all secured into the folder. The first set was from an office building somewhere, and the second was from an airfield, taken at night.

I flipped through the first set for a moment. I saw Dixon in a couple of the shots, and Weiss in several. I saw Curtis in a couple, his men shooting a couple of other men I didn't know. There were shots of Dixon hitting someone and helping Weiss up, and the two of them leaving the building.

The second set was harder to see, because of the darkness. I could make out some APO team members I recognized but didn't really _know_. I saw Dixon in one of the shots towards the end, but the last several images froze my breath in my chest.

It was Sydney. Dressed in black tactical gear and a stocking cap, the baby very obvious under her clothing. She was on the phone with someone – trying to keep an eye on a large box that was being rolled out of the belly of the plane. I glanced through the last of the pictures, and then looked up at Dean. He had taken a seat, and looked at me very seriously.

"I need to know _exactly _what you told her," he stated. "She's obviously onto something. If she already knows too much, you know that will… Invalidate… Our deal."

"I didn't tell her anything," I started, shaking my head and talking fast to try and convince Dean that Sydney wasn't a threat to his plans, whatever they were.

"Obviously that isn't true," Dean replied with a sigh. He picked up another folder from his desk. "Here I have more surveillance from one of our locations in London. They show Sydney Bristow meeting with Renee Rienne – the two of them breaking into my facility there and stealing one of my hard drives. That gave them the information they needed on Curtis, and now he's dead and I've lost my artifact."

"I didn't tell Sydney anything. I knew what the risk was – do you think I'd take that chance?" I questioned. I didn't even mean for Sydney to track Renee down – the only reason I told her that name was because she _asked_. If I would have been thinking, I would have told her not to go anywhere _near_ Renee.

"Why don't you tell me, Mister Vaughn?" Dean asked; his voice eerily calm despite the situation we were in. "Maybe you didn't tell her anything explicitly, but she has the watch, she knew about Rienne. The next time her picture crosses my desk, I'm going to have to take some kind of action to keep her from getting any further into this than she already is."

"God dammit, she already thinks I'm _dead_! What more do you _want_?" I asked, raising my voice.

"The only reason you agreed to let us fake your death was to protect her and your child," Dean said, shaking his head a little. "What Sydney doesn't realize is that her investigation into this matter is putting _both_ of them at risk. Curtis should have stopped her, and for whatever reason, he failed."

"She thinks she's tracking down the people that murdered me – she's not going to stop because the idiot that was holding the gun _tells _her to!" Dean looked up at me at that, and I could see the anger written on his face.

"You should tread carefully here, Mister Vaughn," he threatened. "I've been fairly lenient with you thus far, but that can change the instant you've outlived your usefulness to my organization." I paused for a moment, trying to think quickly and get myself out of this mess, and save Sydney at the same time.

"You want the watch?" I questioned. He raised his eyebrows, nodding after a moment. "I can get it for you, and get Sydney to back off."

"I can't allow you to make contact with her," Dean stated immediately, seeing where I was going with this. "Or let you out of my sight for that matter. I already know she has it, and if it comes to it, we will kill her and take it ourselves."

"She won't have it," I replied. Dean paused, looking at me again.

"Where is it?" I didn't reply. "I have something you want and you have something I want. Tell me where it is and she'll be spared."

"For how long? That was the deal in the first place – you've already gone back on it once, what assurance do I have you won't do it again?"

"I'll simply take a different avenue, that's all. Sydney will be spared, for the time being."

"You've already got someone tracking her, don't you?"

"Where is the watch?" I was silent for a moment, trying to determine if Dean was telling the truth or not. I knew I couldn't trust him, but I needed to bargain somehow or he would kill Sydney without a second thought.

"Fine," I finally said. "You leave her out of this and I'll tell you where it is."


	5. Chapter 5

**Disclaimer: **same

**A/N: **Thank everyone so, SO much for the interest! It's nice to know people are enjoying reading this as much as I enjoy writing it! Sorry about this chapter being a bit late. I wanted to have it up this morning but the Internet decided to fry itself. So, anyway, here's Chapter Five. Please review!

OOOOO

Two weeks later, Dean came down to my cell. He was willing to strike a bargain with me after getting his hands on the watch, and now the stony guard that brought in meals would tell me the date and time. I tried asking him where this facility was – he just laughed at me for that one, and muttered something about my being an idiot in what sounded like German, though I couldn't be sure.

I looked over when Dean entered. He was dressed in a gray suit, and carried his briefcase with him. I knew he was on his way out. He smiled a little, setting his things down and closing the door.

"I'm on my way out of town," he explained. I nodded a little, waiting for him to continue. Instead, he just turned his attention to looking around the room some more.

"And you felt it was important to tell me this why?" I questioned. I'd spent the entire morning being interrogated by the guard that seemed to have taken Curtis's place. He stood on the other side of the door asking me personal questions that even some of my _friends _didn't know the answers to. And, as with any annoying guard or enemy I'd come across, I found that at first I couldn't get him to talk, and now I couldn't get him to shut up.

"I'll be in Prague for at least a few weeks," he answered, choosing to ignore my attitude for the time being. I knew at least part of the reason for my anger with him was to try and piss him off. Make him lose his concentration and he might let something slip – something I could use against him. Of course, I knew he saw right through that, and that was why he didn't let it get to him. "Most of this operation is going with me, so you should have some down time."

"All I have down here is 'down time'," I snapped. "You wanna give me a break; let me outside for ten minutes." Dean smiled, nodding a little.

"I get that you're frustrated," he stated. "But, I don't exactly trust you out of my sight. If I'm going to be in Prague, you're going to have to stay put right where you are."

"Fine, whatever," I allowed, shaking my head. "Hey, you know what? Have a great time." I leaned back against the wall, not looking at him. I was fed up of sitting in this room. I knew biting his head off was probably just going to get me into more trouble, but I felt like we were at a stalemate and it was starting to piss me off.

"All right, all right," Dean allowed, the cocky smile finally leaving his face. He sighed. "I'll cut you a deal. Considering how well things are going with the manuscript for Prophet Five, I'll give you a little leeway while things are quite down here. Nine chances outta ten, your organization will be breathing down _my _neck and make it a little hard for you to contact any of them.

"Of course, I'll have to leave someone here to make sure you're not going to do anything that would… Alter our agreement," Dean continued with a smile. "I'll leave Carl here to keep an eye on you." I smiled a little at that, shaking my head in disbelief.

"In that case, I'll stay in here," I stated. Dean gave me a look.

"I'll tell you what," he finally allowed. "I'll leave a minimal detail here. All of the pertinent equipment will be traveling with me, so I highly doubt you'll get yourself into any trouble, even if you try. Which, I trust you won't, considering our agreement."

He smiled a little at me and turned to go. He picked up his briefcase and opened the door. I didn't say anything as he stepped out and started to close the door behind him. He seemed to think for a moment, and then went ahead and left the door open. Carl, the self-proclaimed 'security personnel', stood outside the door and smiled at me.

"I'll just leave Carl here for now. Once everything's been moved out of the main rooms upstairs, he'll follow my convoy. Right, Carl?" Dean asked.

"Of course, Mister Dean," Carl replied. One thing I'd learned about Gordon Dean – he commanded loyalty from the people that worked for him.

"Good." Dean looked back over at me. "Once he's left, there will be a minimal staff here to guard all the exits. Chances are, you won't see them, but they'll see you. If you should try to escape, you will be… Detained until my return."

"And what's made you decide to be so generous all of a sudden?" I questioned, a bit confused.

"Well, when I get back from Prague, you and I are going to sit down and have a talk about what else I need from you," Dean stated with a slight grin. "Until then… Try not to have too much fun."

Carl spent a good twenty minutes trying to talk to me, and then another fifteen beating me up to release all the aggression from not getting anything out of me. Once all of that was finally over, Dean called and Carl took off. He spat something about how if I wasn't in this room the second he got back; he would work me over again, and do worse this time. Then, he was gone.

For a minute, I didn't move. For all I knew, Dean was kidding about the whole thing – waiting to see if I would try and escape this compound. Even if he wasn't, I knew there was no chance he'd let me get away. He had too many operatives; he put too much thought into this whole thing to just leave me alone to walk right out the front door. That much I was certain of.

Finally, I hauled myself to my feet, using the dirty cuff of my shirt to wipe blood away from my nose. I stepped carefully into the hallway, half expecting to find Carl waiting there with some kind of a weapon. There was no one outside my room.

I took another moment to look around, and then the fear of losing this opportunity got the better of me. I ran up the stairs into the main room, seeing it was empty as well. There were desks scattered around the room, and a large display screen tacked onto one wall. I noticed maps and sketches and notes in about a dozen different languages all over the rest of the walls, but all of the computer equipment was gone.

Still, that didn't stop me from searching absolutely everything in the room. I could only make sense of a few of the maps and notes – the rest were either in codes or in languages I never had the chance to learn. I checked under all of the desks, hoping that – in the hasty transfer of all of his assets – Dean let something slip past him. Disks, documents, _anything _I could use to keep this stalemate going a little longer.

There was nothing.

I sighed deeply, leaning back against one of the desks and taking a moment to glance around the room again. Dean was nothing, if not thorough. There wasn't even a shred of evidence I could use against him or his organization. Not even anything that would tell me where I was to begin with.

I glanced back to the stairs that led down to the basement. As I did, I noticed one more door in the hall – one place I hadn't thought to look yet.

Dean's office.

He told me that all of the guards would either be at the exits or somewhere outside, but as with anything, I didn't know if that was true or false. I took a quick look around for anything I could use as a weapon, finally coming up with a fire extinguisher. Carefully, I made my way to Dean's office, pushing the door open and stepping back into the hall to get a look inside before just rushing in.

When I was satisfied there was no one inside, I went in. He'd cleaned all of his stuff out, too. All the filing cabinets were empty, the computer was gone, and not even a stray floppy disk had been left in any of the desk drawers. I sighed, sinking into his chair and trying to think.

He said he'd be gone for a few weeks, at least. That would give me some more time to explore, to look around for anything he might have hidden. Of course, I couldn't just tear the whole place to shreds. For one, that would be physically exhausting, and would land me in a whole world of trouble when they got back from Prague.

_If he's even _coming _back_, I thought suddenly. _He might have what he wants already, and now he'll just vanish off the face of the Earth. Leave me in here to go stir-crazy and get shot when I try to get out._

I opened one of the desk drawers again, digging through it for a moment. Maybe I didn't need actual information from his organization to get somewhere. Even a man like Gordon Dean couldn't account for _everything_. Somewhere around this whole place, I knew I had to find something with an address on it. A matchbook, a receipt… _Something_.

I stopped when I found an old pencil shoved towards the back of the top drawer. It looked a little worn, like maybe it got stuffed behind all of the boxes of staples and paper clips and copy paper and forgotten about. There was writing on one side. It had the address of a bank located in New Mexico printed on it, as well as a phone number.

Los Alamos.

OOOOO

Dean was gone for about a week and a half. I'd been spending most of my time back in my room in the basement, not wanting to be up and around when Carl came back to 'look in' on me.

It was nighttime – or at least I was pretty sure it was – and I was just settling down to try and get some sleep when the door was slammed open. I sat up just in time for Carl's fist to make contact with the left side of my face, promptly putting me right back down again. I felt him grab my arms, pulling me off the cot and hitting me again.

I fell back, dazed. I didn't know what the hell was happening, or why for that matter, but the surprise attack rendered me speechless and unable to defend myself. I heard yelling in German, and then another guy came into the room. My hands were pulled roughly behind my back; a pair of handcuffs slapped way too tight around my wrists.

The two of them managed to get my half-conscious body all the way up the stairs. One of them kicked the door open, carrying me about fifteen feet before they threw me in the back of a van. The doors were slammed closed, leaving me in total darkness. The engine of the van was already running, and it took off just moments after the doors were closed behind me.

For a moment, I lay completely still. I didn't know if there was anyone else in the back of the van, or what might happen if I tried to move around. Finally, my eyes adjusted to the darkness and I was able to see that I was alone. I managed to roll over so I was on my back rather than my stomach, sitting up and leaning back against the side of the vehicle.

_Okay, focus_, I told myself. I had to figure out what might be happening. There was a chance this was a part of a transfer to a different facility. Maybe Dean found out that I knew where I was, and figured he had to move me before I had the chance to capitalize on that knowledge.

Of course, there was also the chance I was being taken to some ditch somewhere, where I would promptly be shot in the head and never know what the hell happened. I tried to keep myself thinking Dean still needed me for something, but since I had no idea what he was up to in Prague, I knew there was a chance he'd reached whatever endgame he was pursuing and no longer needed my 'help'.

By my rather shaky judge of time, it was about twenty minutes before the van came to a halt. I heard the doors in front open and close, and I could hear footsteps circle around from the passenger side.

The doors on the back opened, and I saw Carl there. He smirked a little before climbing into the back of the van, grabbing the front of my shirt and hauling me outside. I resolved I wasn't going to struggle or try and fight him off until I knew for sure what was happening. If this was just a transfer, I could keep doing what I was doing. If they were planning to kill me, I'd need to save all the energy I had for the right moment.

"Get him on the plane!" Carl instructed the driver of the van, shoving me in that direction. I stumbled, another muscle-head guard of Dean's catching me on the way. He pressed a gun to the back of my neck, walking me towards a private jet sitting on a darkened runway. I didn't have a clue where we where. It certainly wasn't the airport, so I had to figure this was all more of Dean's seemingly infinite resources at work.

This new guard shoved me through the door of the plane once we were up the stairs. I landed, rather roughly, on the floor just short of one of the benches. The guard went to the cockpit, while Carl came up after us.

I didn't even have the chance to say anything to him. He had a small briefcase with him, which he set down on the bench next to me. He pulled out a syringe, which I imagined had some kind of powerful tranquilizer inside. With another sideways grin at me, he stuck the needle into the side of my neck. A few moments passed, and then everything began to get fuzzy.

"Are we ready for transport?" the other guard asked in a thick Irish accent.

"Go," Carl replied. I heard him say something about 'secondary protocol', but that was the last thing I heard before slipping into unconsciousness.

OOOOO

Because of the drugs Carl shot into me on the plane, I had no idea how much time had passed or where we were when we landed. I woke up lying on the cold, cement floor of what looked like a modified storage office. The walls and door had long since been destroyed, all of them replaced with steel bars like some kind of jail cell.

I groaned, trying to shake off the sluggish, disoriented feeling that came with the tranquilizers. My head was pounding – probably from being hit a couple of times with Carl's meaty fists – and everything in me ached. I had to take a moment before I could sit up, looking over at the door.

On the other side, I saw Dean. He'd pulled a chair up close to the door of the cell – not close enough for me to reach him – and sat there with an almost inquisitive look on his face.

"Wasn't expecting to see you again for another couple of weeks," I started, taking a moment to look around the cell. It was a lot like my previous set up, with the absence of the blanket on the steel cot attached to the far wall. I looked back at Dean.

"Things didn't go as planned," Dean answered, shaking his head. He seemed lost in thought for a moment. "The branch of my operation centered in Prague has been destroyed. And your organization put a hack on my network. They downloaded half the data on my server by the time we caught it. Sabotaged my mission there – cost me everything."

I just nodded. So, that was why he sent Carl to move me. If APO knew about his facility in Los Alamos, they'd search it at the earliest possible opportunity. Part of me was afraid that maybe he would use this as another excuse to go after Sydney. Manipulate me that way, considering that was the one way that had worked to get me to do what he wanted so far. He glanced off down the hall and then returned his gaze to me, leaning his chin on his hand.

"She was there, of course," he stated. He stood, coming closer to the bars and passing a picture to me. "Didn't see her, but we did get a few shots of this man." I looked at the picture. The guy was about my age, dark hair. "Do you have any idea who he is?"

"No," I replied, handing the picture back to Dean. He just nodded a little.

"What about this woman? Have you ever seen her before?" He showed me a second picture. It was the blonde woman from the party in Cape Town – the one that set off the alarm when she saw I was stealing the Prophet Five manuscript.

"She works for you, doesn't she?" I questioned, looking back up at Dean.

"Have you seen her before or not, Mister Vaughn?"

"Yeah. In Cape Town – she tried to distract me, keep me from stealing that book. Why?"

"The hack originated from her terminal. I need to know how she found us out."

"Found you out?"

"Answer the question."

"I did," I snapped. "I told you, I saw her in Cape Town. I have no idea why this is so important to you all of a sudden. Obviously, she worked for you, so you know more about her than I do."

"This is important to me because, somehow, your organization compromised her. She's the one responsible for the mess in Prague."

"You've kept me locked up for the last four months. I don't know who she is, how APO got in contact with her, what she did to your operation in Prague – nothing," I started, shaking my head and passing the picture back to him.

"All right," Dean said, taking the photo. "Doesn't matter either way. The incident in Prague was contained."

"You killed them?" I asked, nodding to the pictures.

"No, just…" He sighed. "Just her. He got away, but the rest of that branch was destroyed. Several agents, a couple of techs, and a couple of the men I brought along from this facility." I nodded, pausing for a long moment.

"You said something about what else you needed from me?" Dean shook his head a little.

"At this point, no," he replied. "What I need now is to minimize the damage done to this organization. Considering the losses I've already suffered, that may mean… Taking action against APO – stopping them from doing anymore damage."

"And moving me out of New Mexico?" I questioned. Dean looked at me, apparently surprised. "Pretty efficient. You only left maps that were in a code I didn't know, you took all the computers, the disks… Left me practically nothing. I found this pencil, in the back of a drawer. Los Alamos."

"Well, you certainly get points for being thorough," Dean replied with a slight grin. I sighed, nodding a little. "I knew there was a good chance you would find something that would tell you where you were."

"That's why you had them move me, isn't it?" I asked. "It's because I found out."

"No, Mister Vaughn," Dean said, standing and shaking his head. "It's because _they _did."


	6. Chapter 6

**Disclaimer: **same

**A/N: **Thanks for the reviews! Here's chapter six - I'll try and have seven up shortly after 'Out of the Box' airs tomorrow night. Please review!

(Just as a note, I'm trying to stick to the actual plot of the show as much as I can. I don't want this to go off into AU territory. It may end up there at some point in the future, but for now I'm trying to stick to the show. So, hope no one minds that for the time being!)

OOOOO

Dean left me alone to try and figure out what he meant by that.

He moved me because APO knew _something_. I had no idea what that could be. Did they find out about his plan to fake my death? Did they know about the Los Alamos facility? If they did, how much did they know? Just the location of the facility? Did they know that's where I was being held?

Did they know I was still alive?

I was starting to feel nauseous again, though this time it was more stress-related and not a side effect of being drugged on the plane. I moved off the ice-cold floor to sit on the slightly less cold steel cot, resting my head in my hands and trying to determine why Dean seemed content to try and drive me insane.

He didn't seem too concerned with whatever else he needed me for any longer. That worried me. I knew when he had what he thought he needed, he would kill me. He didn't even bother with the fake promises of release or at least a chance at living like some people did. He knew I wouldn't have believed him even if he did say it in the first place.

Besides all of that, I was worried about Sydney. I didn't know how much she knew. According to Dean, APO downloaded a lot of his files. That would give them information on his organization, sure. Unfortunately, it would also put the whole team in a lot more danger. Dean knew they were more of a risk now.

"Dean wasn't exaggerating." My head snapped up when I heard a female voice from the hall that led into this part of the building. I saw a woman standing not far from the cell, her arms crossed over her chest. She had brown hair, wavy and to the middle of her back, and dark brown eyes. I had no idea how long she'd been standing there. "It suits you."

I didn't say anything, instead turning away and continuing to stare at the floor. She circled around the cell, looking around absently at the rest of the basement. Finally, she shook her head and sighed, looking back over at me.

"He thinks it's your fault we had to move operations to this place," she stated. "That you told the people you work for something that gave them an advantage over our organization."

"If he wants to think that, that's his problem," I snapped. She looked over at me, smiling. There was no emotion behind it. Kind of reminded me of the way Irina smiled sometimes.

"I guess," she replied with a shrug. "I just wanted to come down here, take a look around. He keeps talking about you, I wanted to put a face with the name." She started for the stairs, which I could just barely see from where I sat. Before she disappeared from sight, she turned back to face me. "I'm Peyton, by the way."

I didn't say anything. She tried to smile again, this time showing the slightest hint of emotion behind the expression. Then, she vanished up the stairs.

OOOOO

I heard Dean talking to me before I was really awake. I opened my eyes and sat up, looking over at him and wondering what he wanted. I could tell it was morning – light came down from upstairs and gave me some idea of what time it was. Dean paused, looking at me in question for a moment.

"Didn't realize I woke you," he said.

"Yeah, you know, restful sleep is kinda hard to come by around here," I snapped. I still hadn't determined exactly what he meant when he told me that APO knew something, and trying to figure it out was keeping me awake at night. So, naturally, I was getting kind of irritable.

"Been about four days since I saw you last," Dean threw in as he grabbed a chair from the opposite side of the corridor, bringing it near the cell and taking a seat. "You look like hell."

"Is there some reason you're down here, or are you just trying to annoy me?" I questioned. He laughed outright at that, shaking his head.

"Well, I really shouldn't have woken you," he stated. He looked at me for a moment before continuing. "I've got some things to do tonight. I'm going to see that Peyton helps you out down here. She's got a laptop, the signal will be patched through from upstairs."

"A video signal? For what?" I asked, kind of curious as to what he was up to. He just smiled, standing but leaving the chair where it was.

"You'll see."

OOOO

That night, Peyton came back downstairs. She had a laptop with her, just as Dean said. She didn't say a word to me as she set it down in the chair, logging into the system and opening a display window. She went back upstairs, returning with a cable she hooked into the side of the laptop. The display on the monitor flickered, and a black-and-white image appeared. It looked like a shipping yard. I could see a little bit of the water, as well as a parking lot and a large crane.

"Monte Carlo," Peyton informed me, smiling back at me as she situated the laptop so I could see it but not reach it. "He wanted to make sure you got the chance to see this."

"See _what_, exactly?" I asked, confused. Peyton sighed, getting to her feet and looking over her shoulder again.

"Your girlfriend." She smiled at me once more and went back upstairs.

For a while, I was content to ignore the video. I didn't know what Dean was playing at, or why Peyton said it had something to do with Sydney. However, when I saw movement on the screen I couldn't help but look. There was a car pulling into the lot, heading for one of the ferries. It stopped at the gate, and a large van pulled up behind it. The crane started moving. I could see something attached to it, but I couldn't tell what it was.

The heavy object on the end of the crane dropped onto the roof of the car. I realized it was a large magnet, like the kind you would see in a junkyard. It lifted the car several hundred feet into the air. I walked over to the bars, looking more closely at the monitor. I could see someone in the driver's seat. The resolution wasn't that great, but it didn't have to be for me to recognize the driver.

_Sydney._

"It's a good show, no?" I looked up, seeing that Carl had come down the stairs. He grinned.

"What the hell are you doing?" I questioned, nodding to the monitor.

"Mister Dean needs something from you," Carl started, walking over near the laptop. "She's the only way to make sure he gets it." He tapped on the screen, causing it to rock back and forth for a moment on the uneven base of the chair. I looked to him and then back at the image in front of me. "If you don't tell us within the hour, we drop the car."

"What's so important all of a sudden?" I questioned. I had to try and negotiate this. I couldn't just give Dean what he wanted – that would just further prove the point that he could manipulate me using Sydney.

And he could, of course. He already knew that. That's why he was doing this.

"Your friend stole something that belongs to us. We need to know where she might have taken it," Carl explained.

"My 'friend'? Which 'friend'?" I asked.

"Renne Rienne," Carl stated. I thought for a moment, finally nodding a little in understanding.

"This is about that box," I said. Carl looked over at me sharply. "The one from the plane. Dean's 'package' – it was supposed to end up in North Korea and APO diverted it. She stole it from them, didn't she?"

"She has it, we want it," Carl snapped, his German accent thickening in his anger. "Where would she take it?"

"I don't know – she has half a dozen storage facilities and safe houses all over the world. It could be any one of them," I replied. Carl nodded a little.

"Think it over." He went back upstairs. I immediately turned my full attention back to the video screen. The car was just hovering there. I could see some movement inside, but I couldn't tell what was going on. Hopefully Sydney was on the phone with APO and they were finding some way to get her down from there, safely.

For the longest time, nothing happened on the video feed. I took to pacing the cell, occasionally looking away from the monitor. I stopped when another movement caught my eye. The cable on the crane loosened, and the car dropped.

"_No_!" I shouted, running right up against the bars as if that would somehow help the situation. The cable tightened again and stopped the car, pulling it back to where it was. It had only fallen maybe fifty feet. I took a shaky breath, glancing over at the stairs again. Carl came back down, an even bigger grin on his face this time.

"In case you were wondering, no, this is not a bluff," he stated simply. He glanced at his watch. "And you have fifteen minutes to make your decision. Either tell us where Rienne took the box or watch her die."

I took a moment to think over my options. If Renne had something she knew Dean wanted, there was only one place she would take it. Still, handing that information over would put her in danger, and give Dean just what he wanted. If I didn't give it to him, he was going to kill Sydney.

"Tick, tock, tick, tock," Carl started saying, counting off the seconds on his watch.

"Shut up," I snapped. He ignored me. I glanced at the monitor. I didn't see any sign of anyone that would be able to help Sydney.

"I need an answer, one way or another," Carl reminded me when he got tired of counting the seconds. I watched the monitor for another moment, finally looking over at him. "All right." He started for the stairs.

"It's a storage warehouse in France," I stated. He looked back at me. "I can show you exactly where if you bring me a map." Carl nodded and went up the stairs, returning with a map. I showed him the location of the facility in France where Renne would have taken then box. I looked over at the monitor, expecting to see the car gently lowered to the ground any moment now.

Instead, the cable loosened again and the car fell. I watched it crash to the ground, the entire thing caving in on itself when it hit.

For a moment, I couldn't breathe. It was like rounding the corner onto Sydney's street and seeing all the flashing lights, hearing the sirens – all over again. Like I just watched her die for the second time.

Another small movement towards the top of the screen caught my eye. I looked, seeing two shapes hanging from the magnet that still hung in the air. I didn't recognize the lower one, but the one hanging off the magnet was Sydney.

I let out the breath I was holding, sinking into a sitting position right there on the concrete floor. The arm of the crane was lowered, slowly, and I saw Dixon approach and help Sydney and the other girl off into another car.

Moments later, Dean came downstairs. I immediately shot to my feet.

"You son of a bitch, what the _hell _are you trying to pull?" I shouted. He raised his hands into the air, trying to get me to calm down.

"Now, now, Mister Vaughn. There's no need for language," he stated. He went to the computer, unhooking the cable and closing it up. He tucked the machine under his arm, turning back to me. "The information we got from you was a secondary objective."

"What do you mean?" I asked, lowering my voice but still letting him know I was less than thrilled with his 'stunt'.

"Miss Bristow has something of mine. I wanted it back – that was the point of this exercise," he answered, shaking his head a little. "I figured it would be the perfect opportunity to capitalize on what knowledge you have of Renne Rienne and where she's taken my package."

He smiled a little as he made his way to the stairs. He seemed to think for a moment, turning and coming back. He walked right up to the door of the cell, knowing I wouldn't try anything or Carl would be on my case rather quickly.

"Don't tell me you really thought you had any control over whether or not I dropped that car." He smirked, and then went upstairs.


	7. Chapter 7

**Disclaimer: **same

**A/N: **Thanks for the reviews! Sorry it took me a little longer than I thought to get this one written. Out of the Box confused me and it took me a while to figure out how to go about writing this chapter.It's a little shorter, but I'll try and make up for it with the next one.Anyway, I'm really curious to see what everyone thinks about the little 'dream' sequence towards the end of the chapter, so let me know please! Thanks, and enjoy!

OOOOO

Three days passed before Peyton came down to the basement again. She didn't say a word to me as she went to the very end of the hall, stepping inside another small office. I sat on the cot at the far side of my cell, wondering what she was up to but not caring enough to try and strike up some sort of conversation.

I hadn't seen or heard from Dean since the night with the car and the magnet, and I was kind of glad he seemed to have gotten everything he wanted of me for the moment. I didn't know why he was so interested in that stupid box in the first place, but it had to be something important. I only hoped Renee would either survive the encounter, or she would have moved to a different location by the time Dean's forces got there.

"He doesn't think you've done a whole lot to warrant this, but here." I looked up, seeing Peyton holding a rather flat-looking pillow and a blanket in through the bars of the cell. I didn't get up. "You gave him what he wanted – there's got to be some kind of a positive end to it, or his games aren't going to work very long."

I didn't bother to tell her what I was sure she already knew. Dean didn't have to give me anything to keep me talking. All he had to do was go after Sydney. Considering my position, continuing to protect her was about all I could do for her. I couldn't _stand _the thought that that monster might be able to do something to her, or to our unborn child, and he knew just how to exploit that.

"I'll leave them here," Peyton continued. She crouched down, setting the pillow and blanket on the floor and getting back to her feet. She watched me for a long moment, finally smiling a little. "You seem like a nice enough guy."

"I know what you're trying to do, and it won't work," I stated flatly, glancing over at her before going back to staring emptily at the floor. She seemed confused, and I could see her shake her head out of the corner of my eye.

"I'm just trying to be polite," she replied.

"No, you're playing the 'good cop'," I said. There was another pause, and I looked over at her again. "I just can't figure out why. Dean already knows exactly what to do to keep me talking to him, so there's nothing you have to gain by trying to be nice to me."

"I'll see about bringing you something to eat," was all Peyton said in reply before disappearing back up the stairs.

OOOOO

I didn't know where Dean was, and it seemed he took Carl with him when he left. Not that I was complaining – I was starting to get a little sick of the way he'd leer at me every time he came downstairs, threatening me and saying that it was only a matter of time before Dean just got sick of me and let Carl do what he wanted.

What was confusing was Peyton's sudden appearance, acting polite and as if she didn't agree with Dean's keeping me locked up all the time. I knew better than to let my guard down, especially now. She wanted something out of me, and thought that being nice was the best way to get it. Trick me into trusting her because she appeared to be on my side.

After the mistake of letting me up and around at the facility in Los Alamos, Dean seemed to have realized that it would be safer to keep me caged in the basement. I could tell by the lack of sunlight coming from upstairs that it was nighttime. I hadn't seen Peyton since that morning, and sitting around all day was making me crazy. I got to my feet, pacing the length of the cell.

It was almost worse when Dean's whole organization seemed content to ignore me. All that left me with was the opportunity to sit around in the dark, wondering about what they were planning. I almost hated that even more than when Dean showed up to threaten Sydney to make me talk.

"Yeah, I'll let him know." I looked over to the stairs, seeing Peyton close her cell phone and return it to her belt as she came up to my cell. "That was Dean. He wanted me to tell you that his team just finished up in Marseilles."

"I'm guessing he has what he wanted," I stated, looking over at her and clenching my jaw. She nodded a little.

"No casualties," she informed me with a grin. "He'll be back sometime in the next couple of weeks."

I didn't respond.

A silence fell over the room, thick and blanketing both of us for several minutes. I turned away and started pacing absently again, thinking over what it was Dean wanted from me and why it was so important to get his hands on that box again.

"Was there anything else?" I finally asked, looking over at Peyton tiredly. She just shrugged one shoulder.

"I figured maybe you wouldn't mind the company," she reasoned.

"I do, actually," I snapped. She nodded a little, turning and going back upstairs.

OOOOO

Sometimes, when I was able to get a little sleep between worrying about Sydney and trying to deal with the endless interrogations, I would start dreaming. More often than not, those dreams turned out to be nightmares, but once in a while, I caught a break. A slight reprieve from the hell I was living in. Most of the time, those kinds of dreams weren't even remotely tied to reality. But, considering how ugly my reality was at the moment, that wasn't a big surprise.

It didn't take long for me to come up with a favorite, either.

Whenever I settled down to try and sleep, I would always hope that I'd get lost in that dream for a few hours. In it, I didn't have anything to explain to Sydney on the way to Santa Barbara. There wasn't that ominous feeling drifting around my head, reminding me I still had things to answer for, even after all this time. It was just peaceful. The two finally getting to go on vacation – the vacation we'd been planning for years.

I'm not sure if it's just that the whole thing is a very vivid dream, or if I just want it to be real so badly that my mind makes it that way. At first, I would try and figure it out, but after a couple of weeks I decided it wasn't important either way. Regardless of what makes it seem so real, I smell the ocean air as the car pulls into the driveway at the hotel. I hear Sydney laugh when I make a joke about having to go to the zoo and visit the giraffe.

We get out of the car and I hand the keys to the valet. He looks excited about taking the nice luxury car for a drive, even if it's just to the parking lot. There's already a man holding the door open for us, and another getting our bags out of the trunk.

It's perfect, really. Everything goes the way I wanted it to six months ago – the same way I wanted it to go years ago when I _first _had this idea. We check into the room and go down to the beach. The sun is setting, there's just a light breeze, and I've never _seen _Sydney so happy as she is standing at the edge of the water, smiling over at me. The ring on her left hand catches the light as she brushes the hair out of her eyes, and I can't help but pull her into my arms and kiss her.

I whisper into her ear, asking her again on the beach, just like she wanted. She smiles at me and kisses the side of my nose, saying something about how I was being silly and I already knew her answer. I just smile at her and wait for her to say it again anyway.

She never does, of course. I always wake up first.

OOOOO

_You know you're crazy for even _thinking_ of doing this._

I sighed deeply, pinching the bridge of my nose and trying to get my head to stop hurting. Dean was back from his trip to North Korea, and the only reason he'd come to speak with me was to let me know that fact. He also mentioned something about needing some more information from me, but he hadn't returned to try and get any of that from me yet.

I knew exactly what he was planning to do. He would find some clever way to make sure I talked. Threaten Sydney, put her in danger again like in Monte Carlo with the car. There was only one sure way I could think of to keep him from even getting that far.

It occurred to me two days after Dean came to tell me he was back in town. I was pacing the cell again, trying to figure out how much I would have to tell him to back him down for the moment. Suddenly, an entirely different option occurred to me.

He wanted to stay ahead of APO in this whole Prophet Five mess. Obviously, there was someone else, even more highly placed than Dean that was pulling all the strings. I couldn't even begin to guess who that might be. All the options I came up with so far were ludicrous anyway, so it didn't even matter.

In order to do that, to keep APO from finding whatever information or artifacts it was he was after, he wanted everything I knew. If he could get to that endgame before they did, he wouldn't have to calculate how to keep Sydney on the ropes and still endanger her enough to get me to talk. She would be safe, because Dean would have whatever it was he wanted.

I would just tell him everything.

I spent the next few days fighting with myself over that decision. It was insane – the second Dean had everything he wanted from me, he was going to kill me. I knew that, and there was no getting around it. The only thing that I was going to accomplish if I kept playing this back-and-forth game with him was getting Sydney and our baby killed. I couldn't live with losing her. Not again.

I tried to convince myself of all the reasons not to do it. There was still a risk that Dean would go after APO, this thing that he was after could be a weapon of some kind, there could be consequences of handing him what he wanted that I didn't or _couldn't _see – thousands of things. I knew there was a chance that, even if he got to the end of all of this before APO did, he would kill Sydney anyway.

Still, it's less of a risk to tell him what he wants. I know if I do this, at the very least, Dean will be too distracted by whatever he's looking for to go after Sydney for a while. Maybe that time will be enough. APO will find some way to stop him; they'll sort this mess out and stop him from getting what he wants.

After three and a half days of that, it's clear to me that it's the right choice.

I looked over, seeing Carl come down with some food. I got to my feet, walking over to the bars.

"I need to talk to Dean," I said quietly.

"Why?" he barks, shaking his head. "He's busy at the moment."

"Let him know I'll talk," I stated. Carl sets the tray down and looks up at me in question. I can see the surprise written on his face. "I'll tell him whatever he wants to know."


	8. Chapter 8

**Disclaimer: **same

**A/N: **Thanks for the reviews! Sorry this chapter took a little longer than expected. I'm not too happy with it at the moment - most of it came out as filler rather than actual 'plot'. The next chapter should be a lot better.

Also, thanks to the shifty schedule of new episodes (getting pre-empted, no one really knowing what's ACTUALLY going on with Vaguhn's character) this is now going AU. I was trying really hard to keep it from doing that, but thanks to the changes in scheduling, I had to shift gears. Hope no one minds! Enjoy and please review!

OOOOO

I spoke with Carl on and off for the next couple of weeks before Dean returned from Los Angeles. Carl let it slip that he was there 'on business'. I had no idea if the slip was really an accident as he tried to make it seem, or if he just said it to try and get a rise out of me. Either way, I just hoped that whatever Dean was up to in LA didn't have anything to do with Sydney this time.

Finally, just when I was beginning to wonder if I was already too late to try and cut this deal with him, he showed up at the door of my cell. I sat up, looking over at him for a long moment before he spoke.

"Whatever it is you want, you better make it quick. I've got a schedule to keep," he stated, folding his arms impatiently across his chest. I got to my feet, once again trying to steel myself and keep my composure. After all, doing this was practically asking for him to kill me. It wasn't unlike committing suicide.

"I'm ready to talk," I stated. For a moment, he didn't react. I was about to clarify when his eyes widened and he dropped his arms to his sides. He nodded a little, thinking over what that could mean for his endgame.

"I'm sure you want my word that Sydney Bristow be left alone in exchange," he replied.

"If I give you whatever it is you're after, there's no reason for you to go after her anymore," I shot back, not directly answering his question but still giving him the reasoning I'd come up with when I had this crazy idea in the first place. He nodded again after a moment.

"All right," he said. "You've got yourself a deal." He walked over to the far side of the hall, grabbing the chair and pulling it up beside the cell so he could take a seat. "I've already got the manuscript, and we're still working on decoding that. However, the people that requested the complete translation are missing a vital piece of the puzzle."

"What?" I asked.

"I suppose there's no harm in telling you this," Dean said with a sigh, shrugging a little. I tried not to flinch at the tone of his voice, knowing exactly what he meant. Whatever he said to me didn't matter – once he had the information he needed me for, he'd have me executed. "The manuscript details a genetic code. We had a doctor working on discovering a way to translate that code from text into actual DNA."

"Like the Helix Protocol," I stated. Dean smiled a little at that.

"Not quite. The code in that manuscript is five hundred years old – there isn't any viable tissue to copy, and you can imagine that, without a sample, it would be nearly impossible."

"A sample of _what _exactly?"

"Live tissue," Dean answered. He shook his head after a moment. "I know there was only one source of such a thing, and it's been destroyed. So, we need to find the key to all of this. The key to translating the code in the book into actual cells."

"I don't understand – what does this have to do with me?"

"There's a page of the Prophet Five book that we're missing," Dean continued, not directly answering my question. "That page has the key on it. From what my employer tells me, that page has been missing since 1973."

I froze. For the first time, I knew _exactly_ what he was after.

"I'm sure you've seen the piece of the code we need," Dean stated after a moment. "Your father copied it into his journal, right? In case he ever needed it for something?"

"That's what all of this was about?" I questioned. He smiled.

"Indirectly, yes," he answered, unfazed. I just shook my head. Forcing me to fake my own death, threatening Sydney… The whole mess was just about a stupid code – a series of letters and numbers I didn't understand until I found out that the book was the transcription of someone's DNA.

"What's the deal with the code in the book?" I questioned. Dean narrowed his eyes. "It has something to do with Rambaldi, doesn't it?"

"I don't see why that should concern you," he stated after a moment.

"You're going to kill me anyway. Humor me," I snapped. Dean thought for a long moment, finally nodding a little.

"It does," he agreed. "Now… The code?" I glared at him. I knew he wasn't going to tell me anything else. Not that it mattered anyway – even if I did figure out what he was up to, there was no way for me to explain that to anyone at this point.

Finally, I gave in.

I told Dean the entire code. It was some kind of an equation – AG13 plus 4 and several other small blocks, which all equaled out to the number 47. That was my first clue that the whole thing had some relevance to Rambaldi.

He pulled a notepad out of his jacket pocket and wrote the entire thing down. He checked over it for a moment, like he was trying to make sure that it made sense and I hadn't just given him a bunch of useless numbers and letters. Finally, he put the pad back in his pocket and stood, pushing the chair away.

"Thank you. I'll let Carl know we're finished," he said, going back upstairs without even a glance back over his shoulder.

OOOOO

Nothing happened that night, or the next day. Peyton came down once to bring me food, and I realized her arm was in a sling and there were bandages all over her right shoulder. She didn't bother trying to make idle conversation that time, so I didn't ask what happened to her.

That night, Carl came down with two other guards with guns. I swallowed thickly, realizing what this was about even before he said anything. He walked straight up to the door of the cell, unlocking it and opening it.

"Come on," he said with a nod. I stood, walking to the door.

Leaving this place was a lot less disorienting and painful than my transfer out of the Los Alamos facility. It must have been the middle of the night, because there was no one in the upstairs room of the place. Not even Dean had stuck around for this, which I found a little strange. After everything, I assumed he would be watching the whole thing, if he wasn't the one holding the gun.

Carl led the way outside and to the alley, where there was a black van parked and waiting. I climbed into the back, knowing that trying to make a run for it was useless. I knew that cooperating was just prolonging the inevitable. Nevertheless, I climbed into the van. Carl followed me, pulling a pistol out of his belt as he took a seat across from me. One of the other men closed the door and they headed for the front of the van.

"Any last words?" Carl asked with a smirk. I just shook my head at him and ignored his snide comments the rest of the trip.

My best guess was that we were in the van for about forty minutes. By the way the entire vehicle was jostled back and forth, I figured we were in the literal middle of nowhere. I didn't even know what country we were in to begin with. I was tempted to tell Carl it was useless to drag me to the middle of nowhere to kill me, but I kept quiet.

Finally, we came to a stop. I heard one door at the front of the van open and close, and one of the guards circled around and opened the back doors. Carl ordered me out of the van; taking hold of my arm once we were out of the vehicle.

He pressed the gun into the back of my neck, marching me several paces away from the van into the empty field. Aside from the van's headlights, the only light for miles came from the moon high above us. After a few moments, Carl decided we were far enough away from the van.

"Get on your knees," he barked. I did so. I heard him load a round into the chamber of the gun, clenching my jaw and trying to prepare myself for the pain.

Suddenly, Carl shouted something in German and I heard the doors of the van slam closed again. I didn't move, still waiting for him to just shoot me and get it over with.

The shot never came.

Instead, I heard Carl dart back to the van, climbing into the back. Before he even got the door closed all the way, the driver gunned the engine. The van circled around me and started off down the road that led into this field in the first place, heading back for the main road.

I didn't stay there to wonder why Carl didn't kill me. I knew it was possible that he was just screwing around, and would be back in a few minutes to finish the job. So, I got to my feet and started off running in the other direction.

I got as far as I could in the dark, finding a slight clearing with some rocks where I could rest for a while. It was so dark that I couldn't tell if I was walking straight or going in circles, so I figured waiting until morning was the best option. As soon as there was enough light to see for more than a few feet, I started off again. What I really wanted was to find a road. Some sign of civilization would be helpful. Just because Carl didn't shoot me didn't mean I was home free.

It was almost dark again when I finally found a small road. It was paved, which was a good sign. Neither direction seemed more promising than the other, so I just picked one and started walking along the side of the road, hoping to see a car.

I had to stop a few times because my feet were just too sore to keep walking. Night had fallen, and after a few hours of walking, I was starting to lose hope of anyone finding me out here.

I started wondering why I was just left out here alone. Did Dean request that Carl leave me alive? And, if so, why? If he didn't, why did Carl let me go? Maybe he figured it was the best way to sabotage Dean's operation without jeopardizing himself directly. I didn't have any idea, but I was thankful for whatever happened that left me alive for the time being.

The other thing I couldn't stop thinking about was Sydney. I knew the first thing I had to do, after finding somewhere comfortable to sleep and getting some food, was find some way to contact her. I had no idea how she would react to finding out I was still alive. I hoped she would take the news better than I did when I saw her in Hong Kong.

I was shaken out of my thoughts by a pair of headlights on the horizon. I immediately stepped out into the middle of the road, hoping the driver would see me and stop.

It only took a few minutes for the car to arrive at my position. It slowed to a stop, and an elderly woman climbed out of the driver's seat. She looked at me like I was completely insane for a moment, and then her look softened.

She started speaking in rapid-fire Czech that I didn't understand a word of. I tried to find out if she spoke English, which she didn't. After a few moments of confusion due to the language barrier, she allowed me to climb into the passenger seat of the car. I caught the word for 'city' – that being one of the five words of Czech I could actually speak – and tried my best to thank her as we started back towards civilization.

OOOOO

For the first time in a long time, I not only knew what day it was – November fifteenth – I also knew what time it was – 10:23 PM. Just that simple fact put a smile on my face, reinforcing the fact that I somehow managed to get out from under Gordon Dean's shadow.

The woman that drove me back into town dropped me off at the police station. It was one of the only places that was still open, and a few of the officers spoke English. Unfortunately, one of the first things they did was drag me off into an interrogation room, wanting to make sure this wasn't some kind of a ploy.

Despite my desire to contact Sydney first, I knew I couldn't say anything to civilian police officers. So, my first call had to be to someone with the agency. Since APO was a black-ops division, the only person I could hope to contact was Director Chase. I had to call through the switchboard, of course – getting her on a direct line from a phone in the middle of the Czech Republic at a police station was impossible.

"Chase," she answered her phone in an authoritative bark.

"It's Michael Vaughn. I'm in the Czech Republic – I need an extraction," I replied shortly. I knew there would be time for explanations later. Right now, I was just concerned with getting out of here unscathed.

"I'm sorry?" Chase asked, now sounding confused.

"I can explain later, but right now I'm at a police station in a small village about three hours outside Prague, and I've got an officer breathing down my neck," I answered with a tired sigh. "However you want to run protocol is fine with me, but I'd like to get out of here sooner rather than later."

"Understood. Is there any way for you to get to a safe house?" she asked, leaving the rest of her questions for later. Considering how many people mysteriously came back from the dead in our line of work, it was all just a matter of working out the details anyway.

"No," I stated.

"I'll get in touch with an in-country contact, you should be out of the station within the hour. He'll take you to a safe house until we can arrange transport back to the states," Chase replied.

"All right." She hung up the phone, already getting to work on getting me out of here.

As promised, a CIA affiliate working out of Prague showed up forty minutes later. Apparently, he was already in the area, and it took less than ten minutes to flash the CIA badge to the cops in the station and get me out to his car.

He didn't say much on the trip to the safe house – following protocol, I figured – and it gave me the chance to spend the drive thinking about what I was going to say to Sydney. Of course, seeing her face-to-face was preferable, but I couldn't put this off anymore.

"All right, you can rest here until everything is settled," the man – an older agent named Dreistch – explained as he let me into one of the rooms of the small safe house. The place was relatively secluded and empty aside from the two of us, so I felt safer than I had at the police station. "Is there anything else you need?"

"Yeah," I replied seriously, turning away from my brief examination of the room and looking at him. "I need a phone."


	9. Chapter 9

**Disclaimer: **same on the Alias stuff. The song is "You and Me" by Lifehouse, which I also don't own.

**A/N: **Sorry about taking so long with this one everyone! Sometimes RL rears its ugly head and tries to bite me, but I fought it off. Thanks so much for the reviews! Please continue to leave me feedback, I really appreciate it! This one is a little short, I'll make up for it with the next one though. Here's chapter nine, and enjoy!

OOOOO

Dreistch showed me where the phone was, assuring me that the line was secure before leaving the room and giving me some privacy. I took the phone with me and took a seat on the edge of the bed. My hand shook as I picked up the receiver, dialing the number I memorized the day I learned it – one of the few phone numbers I actually bothered to do that with.

It was just after five in LA, and I figured she would be home already. With the baby, I doubted APO would be keeping her late or sending her on a lot of missions. The phone started ringing on the other end after a moment, which I knew was because of the long-distance connection.

_What day is it, and in what mind?  
__This clock never seemed so alive  
__I can't keep up and I can't back down  
__I've been losing so much time_

"Hello?" she answered on the third ring. My breath froze in my chest. I didn't know where to start. Just finally having the chance to hear her voice again after so long was a relief. I felt tears spring to my eyes. "Hello?" She sighed, and I could tell she was about to hang up.

"Wait, Syd – don't hang up," I said suddenly. The other end of the line went dead silent for a full minute, and I started wondering if she'd even heard me. "Sydney?"

"You're dead," she stated, her voice just above a whisper. I sighed in relief; glad she hadn't hung up the phone.

_Cuz it's you and me  
__And all of the people with nothing to do  
__Nothing to lose  
__And it's you and me  
__And all of the people and I don't know why  
__I can't keep my eyes off of you_

"I know," I replied softly, sitting back and leaning my head on my hand as if sitting up had suddenly become too much effort. "It was Dean – he set the whole thing up. I'm so sorry I couldn't tell you before."

"Oh my god… Are you all right? Where _are _you?"

"I'm fine. I'm in Prague."

"Does Chase know?"

"Yeah, she set up a contact here. I'm safe." I could hear that she was crying, and wanted like nothing else to pull her into my arms and assure her that I was all right. I found myself cursing the fact I was halfway around the world from her.

_All of the things that I wanna say  
__Just aren't coming out right  
__I'm tripping on words; you got my head spinning  
__I don't know where to go from here_

"God, Vaughn, I thought you were-"

"I know. Me too," I interrupted, not giving her the chance to finish that thought. I still didn't know why I was suddenly released like that, but it was probably one of the luckiest things that ever happened to me.

"You're coming back to LA, right? I mean, I would go there, but…" She trailed off, and I could tell by the tone of her voice that she was frustrated she couldn't just jump on a plane.

"Yeah. Chase is trying to get it worked out now. Maybe a couple of days at the most," I continued.

"I'll yell at her myself if you think it might help." I couldn't help but smile at that.

"I doubt it, but feel free," I joked. She was silent for a long moment, and I sighed deeply again. I planned to call Chase again in the morning, and I was determined to be on a plane by the end of the day tomorrow.

_Cuz it's you and me  
__And all of the people with nothing to do  
__Nothing to prove  
__And it's you and me  
__And all of the people and I don't know why  
__I can't keep my eyes off of you_

"You're really all right?" Sydney asked quietly, her voice stirring me from my thoughts. Her voice had that same tone of disbelief and wonder in it that I heard in my own when Dixon called me to tell me she was alive and in Hong Kong.

"Yeah," I reassured her. "I'm all right."

"What _happened_ to you?"

"I can explain everything later. I just – I had to call. I needed to hear your voice," I said quietly.

"Wait, don't hang up," she said quickly, the urgency in her voice startling me.

_There's something about you now  
__I can't quite figure out  
__Everything she does is beautiful  
__And everything she does is right_

"Syd?" I asked after almost a full minute went by in silence.

"I'm sorry," she whispered. "It's just… I'm afraid that if you hang up, I'll realize I dreamed all this." I sighed, swallowing thickly against the lump in my throat. Hearing her so afraid just broke my heart.

Ever since I met her, it was my job to protect her – to keep this from happening to her. Even when it was no longer my place to do that, when it wasn't up to me anymore, I still did everything I could to keep her safe. Now because of one stupid choice I made, thinking that was keeping her safe, I failed.

"I won't," I promised. "I'll stay right here, as long as you want me to."

"Thanks."

_Cuz it's you and me  
__And all of the people with nothing to do  
__Nothing to lose  
__And it's you and me  
__And all of the people and I don't know why  
__I can't keep my eyes off of you_

I lay back on the bed, setting the phone beside me as I did so. We talked about nothing for hours. She told me about her father helping her build a crib, and then having to take the entire thing apart again to get it into the nursery. I joked with her about decorating the room, which she said she hadn't felt up to doing yet.

Even the minutes that passed in silence were comforting, for both of us I imagined. I said as much, and Sydney corrected me, saying it was nice for all _three _of us. I smiled at that.

"I miss you," she finally said.

"Me too," I replied quietly. "I'll be there before you know it."

"Promise?" I smiled.

"I promise."

_It's you and me  
__And all of the people with nothing to do  
__Nothing to lose  
__And it's you and me  
__And all of the people and I don't know why  
__I can't keep my eyes off of you  
__What day is it, and in what month?  
__This clock never seemed so alive…_

OOOOO

I stayed on the phone with Sydney until it was morning where I was. I could tell she was starting to fall asleep, and I told her I'd call her as soon as I could. Once I was off the phone with her, I went to find Dreistch and find out about getting home. He gave me a different number for Chase – one that was safe to use from where I was.

I had to barter with her for half an hour before I convinced her she could get a statement just as easily in Los Angeles as she could here, and she said she would have a plane ready within the hour for me. When I hung up, it finally started to register that I was free.

The emotions that came to me at that moment were overwhelming. I hadn't realized how much I gave up – how much I compartmentalized – when I was Dean's prisoner. Things I didn't think I would ever have the chance to feel or think about ever again, because I was convinced that I was going to die.

Dreistch left me alone until the plane was ready, sensing that whatever I'd been through had finally caught up with me. He was quiet again on the ride to the airstrip, which was thankfully small and owned by a private company, so there weren't many other people around.

While Carl let me go, and I figured Dean either ordered it or thought I was dead, I still didn't feel incredibly safe wandering around in public. After all, these people tracked me down once before – it wouldn't be hard to do it again.

I said goodbye to Dreistch before getting on the plane, and he disappeared just as quickly as he showed up the night before. I got onto the plane, surprised to see Chase sitting on one side of the cabin.

"Director Chase," I said, not understanding why she was there.

"Agent Vaughn," she replied with a slight nod. "Have a seat." She gestured to the other row of seats across from her. I sat down as the pilot closed the door, going to the cockpit and locking the door behind him – protocol.

"What's going on?" I questioned.

"I was already in Prague, coming to get your statement when you called me," she started. "I had a feeling you might want to go back to Los Angeles as soon as possible, so I figured there wasn't much else to do on the way there – might as well get this taken care of now."

Despite myself, I smiled. Sure, having the chance to rest on the flight would have been nice, but this way, I didn't have to get back to LA only be drug off into hours of boring meetings and evaluations. If Chase wanted to use the time on the plane to cut down on that, allowing me to go and see Sydney that much earlier, I was all for it.

"I gather that's all right with you?" Chase said, smiling a little.

"Yeah," I said with a nod. "Where do you want me to start?"


	10. Chapter 10

**Disclaimer: **same

**A/N: **Whoo hoo! Between here and SD-1, I got fifteen reviews on Chapter Ten! Thank you so, SO much guys, you have NO idea how much it means to me that people really enjoy this story. I have so much fun writing it, it's great to know you guys have just as much fun reading. Yay! Anyway, thank you so much for the reviews, please continue to leave them as you know how much I love it, and enjoy chapter 10. The next one should be up sometime in the next few days.

OOOOO

The flight was still long and boring, and having to sit there and rehash everything that happened over the last six months wasn't pleasant. I told her everything Dean wanted from me – the code from my father's journal that obviously had some significance to Rambaldi. She asked me to tell her the complete sequence, writing it down along with most everything else I told her.

I gave her the other names I knew – Carl and Peyton – though I doubted she'd be able to get much information on either one. She asked for a description of each one, just in case, but I knew it was just for the sake of completing the report more than anything.

"What about Dean?" Chase asked. "Did he say anything else before he had his man take you out of that facility?"

"No," I replied, shaking my head. "He just said we were done. Carl came back into the basement a couple nights later. He and a couple of other guards took me to a field. Carl had a gun – I figured he was about to shoot me and then he took off running. They all got back into the van and left."

"No one said anything?" Chase questioned. I shook my head, and I could see she was disappointed by the lack of information I had for her.

"I don't know if it was Dean's call to let me go, or if Carl's messing with him – I have no idea," I explained after a moment. Chase sighed, nodding a little. "What?"

"We're almost there," she stated, closing the file and opting not to tell me whatever was on her mind. "I'll want to see you back in a couple of days at APO – just to work out the rest of the details on your security clearance and everything."

"All right," I agreed. While the endless need for protocol frustrated me, I wasn't going to press it at the moment. The only thing I really cared about now that I knew we were close to LA was seeing Sydney.

I didn't get the chance to call her again, even though I said I would. I figured showing up on her doorstep would be better, even if it was a little surprising at first. When we landed at the airstrip in LA, I made sure Chase didn't have anymore questions for me before taking one of the two cars she had meet us there into the city.

It was morning in Los Angeles, which just served to make my exhaustion and jet lag even worse than they already were. The ride from the airstrip to Sydney's apartment was long and boring; the driver informed me about three minutes in that he wasn't allowed to discuss anything with me until my clearance was re-established, pretty much putting an end to any and all conversation.

Finally, we pulled up to the complex where Sydney lived. I thanked the driver and got out of the car, heading up to the door. I took a deep breath, trying to think of what I might possibly say when she opened the door, and then knocked.

To my surprise, it wasn't Sydney that answered the door. Instead, I saw the young blonde girl from the party in Cape Town – the same girl Dean showed me a picture of and said worked for him. She seemed surprised to see me, and stepped back out of the doorway a little.

"Oh. Um… Hi," she said nervously. She turned, calling over her shoulder. "Sydney, it's for you." She looked back at me, smiling a little shyly. "Sorry, she was, uh…"

She stopped when Sydney came out of the room I assumed was going to be the nursery. I completely forgot about the other girl, who stepped out of the way and allowed me to go inside the apartment.

Before Sydney even had the chance to say anything, I crossed the length of the living room and pulled her into my arms. It was a little awkward at first, considering how much the baby had grown.

"I'm gonna go for a run." I glanced over, seeing the blonde girl smile a little and make a quick exit, closing the door behind her. I looked back at Sydney, wanting to know why she was apparently letting one of Dean's associates live with her.

"Hi," she said quietly, smiling. I realized she had completely forgotten about the other girl already, and decided that explanation could wait until later. I touched the side of her face gently, brushing a stray piece of hair back out of her eyes before leaning in and kissing her.

I didn't pull away until I felt my lungs burning with the need for oxygen. For a long moment, neither of us moved or said anything. After everything that had happened to both of us in the last six months, just being close to one another was enough.

"I'm so glad you're all right," she said. I could tell she was crying again, trying to pull her ever closer to me and drive that sadness away. "I missed you so much." She buried her face against my chest, her arms wound around my back as I kissed the top of her head gently.

"I know," I said quietly. "So did I."

OOOOO

Once I managed to convince Sydney I was actually _there_ and all right, she led me into the kitchen and practically made me sit down, insisting on at least getting me a glass of water. I tried to get her to stop rambling about nothing by asking about the nursery.

"Oh, you don't want to go in there, it smells like paint," she said, making a face before smiling a little. I couldn't help laughing, causing her to look up at me curiously.

"I'm sorry," I said after a moment, smiling and just watching her for a long moment. "It's just… Really good to be here. To see you smiling again, it's just… Nice." She turned to look at me again, this time gracing me with a full-on grin.

"I know," she agreed. She went back to searching the cabinets for some food.

"So… What's up with…?" I gestured to the door.

"Oh, that's Rachel," she answered, shaking her head. "I'm sorry I didn't say anything about her before, it's just that she's… She's been staying here for the last few months."

"Doesn't she work for Gordon Dean?" I asked, confused.

"She did," Sydney answered. "It was… She was lied to. Like me." She looked down at the counter, smiling sadly. "She thought Dean was CIA. We caught her in Prague; she agreed to help us bring down his organization." I nodded a little, suddenly realizing why Dean asked me if I knew her or had something to do with her being caught by APO. "What is it?"

"Hmm? Nothing, just… Dean was asking me about her. I ran into her in Cape Town – she's the one that pulled the alarm on me," I explained. "He wanted to know how APO found her, how you convinced her to work with you." Sydney just nodded a little, looking away again.

"I can't _believe_ he set this whole thing up," she stated, shaking her head in disbelief. I sighed, nodding in agreement as she looked up at me again. "Why did you go along with it?" I shook my head a little.

"He tracked us to Cape Town – he called the hotel where we were staying," I answered.

"I know. Rachel hacked into your files, she gave Dean everything he needed to find us," Sydney informed me. I nodded a little at that – I'd been wondering how Dean found us there when I thought it was impossible for anyone to track our movements.

I explained Dean's 'offer' – that if I didn't go along with his plan, fake my death and give him whatever information he was after, he would kill Sydney. She didn't seem too surprised by that.

"I wasn't going to do it at first," I assured her. "I told him he was out of his mind – that I wouldn't agree to anything like that. I figured that, after we got the book out of Cape Town, I'd tell you about the phone call and the two of us could just keep running; keep evading him until we figured out what was going on."

"And then I told you I was pregnant," she finished for me. I nodded.

"Yeah," I said after a minute. "I just… I realized I didn't have the right to ask you to risk your life, let alone the life of our baby. I couldn't do it, so when I talked to him again I told him I'd do what he wanted." I sighed, shaking my head in disbelief. "I figured I'd… I don't know; find some way out of it. Manipulate him and escape, or get word to APO that I was alive somewhere and it would work out that way."

"How _did_ you escape?" she asked suddenly.

"I didn't," I stated. She looked at me, confused. "Dean wanted information from one of my father's journals – a code. He said it was the key to the manuscript, that it would help him figure out how to break the code and… I don't know, use it to do something. He wouldn't say what.

"I held him off for months. I refused to tell him anything. He knew he wasn't going to get me to talk unless he came up with something real clever, so he started threatening you. He had surveillance photos. Weiss and Dixon in some building with Ivan Curtis, you and a bunch of other agents taking some giant box off a plane – he said the next time you got in the way he'd kill you.

"So, I gave him a little information. He backed off, and it stayed that way for a long time. Next thing I know, he starts asking about Renee and her facility in France – he wants to know the location, says she stole his 'package'. I didn't tell him and he brings in this video monitor, showing your car hanging from a giant magnet over some parking lot in Monte Carlo."

"That's how they knew," Sydney said quietly, connecting some of the missing pieces of this mess just like I'd been doing.

"Finally, I realized he wasn't going to stop. I figured there was only one way to make him leave you, and the rest of APO, out of this mess," I continued. I paused, waiting for her to look over at me before continuing. "Give him what he wanted. If he got to it first, there wouldn't be a reason for him to keep gunning for APO."

"So you told him the code," she finished for me. I nodded with a sigh.

"I knew he was going to kill me once he had it, and I did it anyway," I stated, shaking my head. "He disappeared and, a few days later, his men showed up. They led me out of the facility, took me to the middle of nowhere. This guy, Carl, he's about to shoot me when it's like he just changes his mind out of nowhere. He takes off running back to the van and they leave me there, unharmed."

"When was this, exactly?" Sydney asked, looking up at me in surprise all of a sudden. I didn't respond for a moment, not sure where she was going with this, or why it mattered now.

"Like… I don't know, three days ago, I guess. Why?" I questioned. She sighed, shaking her head and looking away. I recognized the look on her face almost immediately – it was the look she got whenever she couldn't believe what had just happened. "Syd? What is it?"

"Sloane," she replied. "Dean made a deal with him – got him out of prison in exchange for his cooperation. Sloane told us he was working with Dean after Renee and I stole one of Dean's information cards from a museum in Rome, he said he wanted to help APO bring him down. Dean called – he tried to get Sloane to give him the card back. He set up a meeting at a racetrack.

"We caught Dean in Dubai; we used the meet as a trap. That was three days ago," she stated. I looked up at her in surprise. So, the reason Carl let me go like that was because… Dean was captured. The information he got from me never had the chance to go anywhere.

"So, wait, you're saying he's here? APO has him in custody?"

"No," Sydney replied quietly. "He's dead."

OOOOO

Sydney explained what happened. When Dean was caught, he immediately started talking about the other forces involved in all this, saying there were more people involved than we knew. Apparently, someone was using him as a pawn, and he was just as clueless as everyone else, or so he claimed. The card Sydney and Renee stole from Rome had all the information on it, but it was programmed to erase itself within a certain time period.

They tried to get Dean to talk, and Sydney told me he seemed just as frightened of these people as anyone. But, before they could get the rest of the information out of him, he killed himself.

"Which doesn't make _any _sense," she finished, shaking her head. "I mean, one second he's cooperating, telling us everything we need to bring this to an end, and the next he decides to kill himself?"

"You think someone took him out, made it look like suicide," I stated, already seeing where she was going with this. She nodded a little.

"Yeah, I do," she replied. "And I know I probably shouldn't even be talking about this with you. If Chase knew, she'd revoke my clearance, but it just seems too familiar. Twelve leaders of different cells, all highly placed in international governments? Making the people that work for them believe they're working for the good of their countries?"

"Like the Alliance," I stated.

"Exactly," she replied. "It's like the same thing all over again. I mean, we got twelve server hits off the card we stole from Dean. SVR, MI-6 – all different intelligence organizations. Which means that, whoever these people are, they're _inside _the system."

I nodded a little, rubbing my eyes tiredly. It suddenly occurred to me that it had been at least thirty-six hours since I slept, but the time change made it difficult to gauge exactly how long I'd been awake. However, my fatigue was rapidly starting to catch up to me.

"I'm sorry. I shouldn't be doing this now," Sydney said, shaking her head.

"Hey, it's fine," I assured her, reaching across the counter and laying one hand protectively over hers. "Not sure I'm gonna be much help with the strategy until I get some sleep, but…"

"No, I mean… I'm sure it's fine for now," she said with a small smile. I smiled back, figuring she was right. Even if we didn't have a whole lot of time to figure this out, it didn't have to be done at this very moment. "Come on, I wanna show you something, and I'm sure if I open a few windows the paint smell won't be so overpowering."

She went into the nursery first, insisting that I stay outside until everything was ready. A few minutes later, she called me into the room, smiling happily and asking me what I thought.

Though I couldn't smell the paint she kept complaining about, I could tell it was fresh on the walls. It was a soft yellow color, giving the room a light, warm feeling. The crib sat in the center of the room. I could see the small dings in the wood on one side, smiling at the thought of Jack Bristow trying to make it fit through the doorway and failing.

I saw some stuffed animals and a few books sitting to the far side of the room. It didn't look like she'd done a whole lot of work yet, which made me both happy and sad at the same time. Happy because I would be here to help now, but also sad because I'd already missed so much of this experience. I suddenly felt an overwhelming guilt at not being there for doctor's appointments or picking the crib or the paint for this room, or hearing her complain about not fitting into the clothes she already had.

"Vaughn? Are you okay?" she asked suddenly, shaking me from my thoughts. I looked back over at her, smiling sadly and nodding.

"I missed out on all of this," I said quietly, glancing around the room again before turning my gaze back to her. "I'm so sorry I wasn't here." She walked over to where I stood, gently placing one hand on the side of my face. I could feel the cool metal of the ring I gave her in Sovogda against my cheek. I hadn't even realized she was wearing it until now.

"You're here now," she stated. "That's what matters. We're _both_ here now," she corrected after a moment, leaning close and kissing me softly. I smiled a little when she pulled away; leaving my eyes closed and feeling sleep start to pull at me again. "I love you."

"I love you, too," I replied quietly. I smiled at her, looking back at the nursery. "And I love this – it looks great." She grinned, nodding a little.

"Well, now that I have you here to help me, it'll look a lot better," she stated simply. I just smiled back at her in reply. "Come on. Let's get some rest."

OOOOO

Regaining my clearance at APO wasn't as difficult as I thought it would be. Chase seemed to understand that while I had given Dean information, it didn't seem any of it was actually used for anything, and it was doubtful he even had the chance to pass it on to anyone else before his death. So, by Monday morning, I was back at APO.

Sydney insisted I stay with her, and I wasn't about to object. She still had a good deal of my things at her place, which she said Weiss was keeping for me until he went to DC for a different job.

The two of us went into APO together. I knew Chase probably had Jack inform everyone that I would be coming back, but it was still a little strange. I looked over at my desk, seeing it was still empty, smiling a little that no one let someone else have it.

Marshall came over, saying hi and that he was glad I was all right, before leading Sydney off towards his office to look at something. I continued on my way to Jack's office.

Sloane was there when I went in. I still didn't understand why he was allowed to come back. Sure, he had an excuse for working with Elena in Sovogda, but I still didn't trust him. I was beginning to see why Sydney didn't like the idea of working for him. It seemed like every time you turned your back, he made some other deal with another shady operative that landed everyone in a world of trouble.

Sloane greeted me with a nod, smiling a little before saying goodbye Jack and exiting the room. I watched him wander back out into the main room of the agency, finally disappearing towards op tech. I turned my attention back to Jack, who motioned for me to take a seat.

"Agent Vaughn, it's good to see you again," Jack said as I sat down across the desk from him. "Director Chase already gave me a copy of your statement. I just wanted to make sure you felt comfortable coming back to work so soon."

"Yeah, it's fine," I replied with a nod. "Are you sure that's a good idea with the people Dean worked for still out there, though?"

"Considering your release from Dean's custody, I don't believe the rest of his organization has any reason to come after you," Jack replied, shaking his head a little. "Still, we will limit your field work for the time being, just as a precaution."

"Okay," I agreed with a nod.

"Right now, I've got Marshall working on trying to get any information he can from the servers Dean's access card led us to," Jack explained. "We're also coordinating with the different agencies indicated on the disk, mostly through back-channels, trying to find out names on the people that run these cells."

Jack told me to try and ease back into things around here. He told me to go check with Marshall in op tech and see if there was anything I could do to help. I nodded a little, getting to my feet and heading for the door.

"Good work, by the way." I turned around, looking back over my shoulder. Jack seemed serious, but I didn't know what he could possibly be talking about.

"What do you mean?" I asked.

"You were captured and held by an enemy organization for six months, and returned relatively unharmed and without compromising any pertinent information," Jack replied with a small shrug. "I've worked with a lot of agents who couldn't be expected to hold up against that kind of thing."

"Well, congratulate my dumb luck first, and we'll see just how much of it was me in the end," I replied with a smile before heading off for op tech.


	11. Chapter 11

**Disclaimer: **same

**A/N: **Thanks again everyone for the reviews! Hope you all like the new chapter - trying to get some action going here, hope it works! Let me know what you think please!

OOOOO

As I made my way to Marshall's office, I saw Rachel again. She was pouring over some casework spread out on the conference table. I figured, she probably wasn't an official APO agent, so she didn't have a desk or anything, but she seemed comfortable in the conference room. I hadn't seen her again since our rather awkward encounter when I showed up at Sydney's apartment, and wanted the chance to try and apologize for that.

"Hey," I greeted her as I walked into the room. She looked up at me, smiling a little nervously.

"Oh, uh… Hi. Did you need the space?" she asked, immediately starting to gather her things to make a quick exit.

"No, you're fine," I assured her. "I just… I've run into you a few times now and it's been kind of awkward. I wanted to apologize for the other day. For making you take off like that."

"No, not at all," she replied, shaking her head. "I mean, Sydney just let me stay with her for a while. I was out looking for a hotel room or something. Apartments are expensive and it's not like everything's been sorted out here for me or anything, but…" She smiled a little again. "I kind of figured that you guys would like me out of there now that you're back."

"That's up to you guys," I replied with a shrug. Rachel nodded a little.

"Well, I'll talk to her later," she said, turning her attention back to the work she had to do. After a moment, she looked back at me. "Thanks. For… You know. Not hating me."

"Why would I hate you?" I questioned, confused.

"I know Sydney probably told you I'm the one that hacked into your files. I gave Dean your aliases, that's how he tracked you to Cape Town," Rachel explained. I just shook my head a little.

"You thought you were doing the right thing – I can't blame you for that," I stated. She seemed relieved at that.

"Thanks," she said. I nodded, letting her go back to whatever she was working on and going back into the hall. As I rounded the corner heading for op tech, I nearly ran head on into another guy.

"Woah. Sorry," he said, stepping back a little. He looked like he was probably about my age, maybe even a little younger, with close-cut dark hair. He looked at me for a moment. "Hey. You're Vaughn, right?"

"Yeah," I replied.

"Tom Grace," he stated, extending a hand. I shook it, and he let out a low whistle. "Man, if I had a dime for every time someone died and came back to life, I'd be a rich man," he joked.

"Tell me about it," I agreed with a laugh.

"Hey, uh, Sydney was looking for you. I think she's still in op tech," Tom offered.

"Thanks." He nodded as I continued down the hall into Marshall's office. He was typing away on his computer, and Sydney stood beside him, looking at the screen over his shoulder. "Hey."

"Hey," Sydney greeted, looking back over at me with a huge smile. Marshall turned, looking happy to see me as well.

"You know, you guys have got to stop doing that. I mean, disappearing, leaving everyone thinking you're dead… It's very stressful," Marshall said. For a moment, I couldn't tell if he was joking or if he was being serious. Finally, he cracked a smile. "It's great you're back."

"Yeah," I agreed. "So, what's going on? That guy, Tom – he said you were looking for me before?"

"We might have actually found something," Sydney answered. I walked over beside her, looking at Marshall's computer screen. He had a picture of a young woman, maybe in her late twenties, with straight black hair and sunglasses on displayed on the screen.

"Who's this?" I questioned.

"Natalie Cho – she's Chinese intelligence," Marshall answered before Sydney could explain the same thing to me. "According to our files, she's known for selling information to the highest bidder, under an alias, of course."

"The Chinese don't know that she's been selling secrets," Sydney added.

"Right," Marshall agreed with a nod. "But, if anyone over there knows about a mole in their agency, someone that might have ties to the people Dean worked for, it would be her."

"How did we find out about her?" I asked.

"Sloane," Sydney answered. "Apparently, he used to go to her for Intel back when he ran SD-6 – he says she's reliable and usually gives pretty good information, but she's almost impossible to track down."

"Almost," Marshall threw in with a smile. "But not quite." He grinned like he always did when he was proud of his skills with his computer, spinning his chair back around and bringing up another photo. This one looked like a club somewhere in China – the lettering on the front of the building over the door was in Chinese. "This, my friends, is probably one of the more exclusive nightclubs in all of Shanghai. Which, coincidentally, is owned by one Yeong Cho – Natalie's father."

"We don't have anything that suggests she frequents the club, but apparently she just got engaged, and her father wants to throw the party at his club," Sydney explained. "It's tomorrow night."

"So someone has to go in and try and get her to talk," I finished.

"Right," Sydney agreed.

"And, considering that you were around Dean and his people for so long, well… Mister Bristow wanted me to ask you if you would feel comfortable going in on this," Marshall explained. "Since, well…"

"I can't," Sydney said with a small grin. "I swear, he'd stick me on analysis if he thought he could get away with it." I smiled at her a little, nodding to Marshall.

"Yeah, I'll go," I replied.

"Great," he said with a smile. "Okay, I'll get this over to Jack and he'll run it through our analysis guys and we'll get cracking on this." Marshall started rapidly closing windows on his screen, saving everything onto a disk and taking it with him as he headed for Jack's office.

"You sure about this? Just going right back into the middle of everything?" Sydney asked me. I looked over at her, seeing the concern on her face. I smiled at her, taking advantage of our relative seclusion and kissing her.

"Yeah," I replied with a smile. "I'm sure."

OOOOO

The briefing with Jack didn't actually talk as long as I figured it would. I figured the main reason for that was because he was just as eager as the rest of APO to get back into the field and try to get a new lead on the organization Dean used to work for. I wasn't too surprised when Jack told me that Rachel would be my partner for this one, since Sydney wasn't supposed to fly this late in her pregnancy.

Marshall gave us some basic gear, and Jack told us we would be leaving in a little over an hour. Rachel immediately went off to get everything ready, and Jack and Marshall headed for their respective offices, leaving Sydney and I alone in the briefing room.

She asked me, again, if I was sure that this was a good idea. I assured her that it was a pretty easy mission. All we had to do was get into the party, find some way to talk to Natalie Cho, and get whatever information we could from her on the person that might be working for this organization from inside Chinese intelligence.

I ensured her that I would be safe on the trip, and Rachel and I boarded the plane for China. Tom and Dixon were there as well, as our support team.

The flight was quiet, which was kind of nice. When we landed, I started to get a little nervous. I didn't know what might happen if the person we were looking for was actually at the party. Had Dean passed my name on to the higher-ups in his organization? Were they expecting me to make an appearance at some point? Or did he keep my capture to himself, thinking he could use what information he got from me to his benefit?

"Are you all right?" I looked over, seeing Dixon watching me as we taxied down the runway. I nodded a little.

"Yeah," I replied, somewhat unconvincingly. Dixon just nodded, turning his attention back to his own file of information. Tom would be inside the party as well, trying to keep an eye on the guards to make sure they weren't aware of our presence. Dixon would stay behind and monitor everything from across the street, in an abandoned office building.

The plan was for Rachel and I to go in together, and split up and look around for Natalie. Considering how little field experience she had, she felt better trying to distract Natalie's father and her fiancé, leaving me to do the hard work of convincing Natalie to talk to us.

Dixon called back to APO, letting them know we were ready for the mission. I called Sydney, just wanting to make sure she was all right with this idea. She seemed okay, telling me to be careful and that she loved me before hanging up.

I got dressed, wearing a nice suit and tie that would help me blend in with the rest of the people at the party. I met up with Rachel again before we left the office building. She looked slightly uncomfortable in her dress, which was short and low-cut and backless.

"You ready?" I asked. She nodded a little, keeping her eyes locked on the club across the street. There were two guards standing outside, checking invitations before letting people inside.

"Let's go," Tom said before anyone else could say anything. He led the way across the street. He stopped at the door, looking at the two guards for a moment before half-stumbling back into the street. One man immediately went to his aid, catching his arm before he could fall back into traffic.

He threw the man's arm off, yelling loudly in English and generally causing a disturbance. Rachel and I waited near the door until Tom's antics drew the second guard away from the door.

"Now," I whispered to Rachel, the two of us slipping in past the guards. The music playing inside the club was a lot quieter than it would have been on a normal evening, which was nice. Being able to hear myself think was helpful.

"There she is," Rachel said, nodding over to the bar. I could see Natalie with her father and the man I assumed was her fiancé. The three of them seemed to be conversing about something, and Natalie kept glancing over her shoulder at her fiancé, trying to make sure he was still paying attention.

"This should be easy," I replied. Rachel smiled a little.

"I'll go see if I can distract them," she said, seeming to gain a sudden surge of confidence as she brushed her hair back over her shoulder and started off towards the bar.

"Be careful, Oracle," Dixon's voice said over the comms. "We've got at least three guards on the floor of the club, and two more in an upstairs office." Dixon had Marshall's help hacking into the video surveillance feeds at the club.

"Roger that, Outrigger," Rachel replied. "I'm just going to play to the wandering eyes of the crowd."

"Shotgun, there's a patio out back," Tom's voice chimed in. "If our target gets angry enough, that's where she'll head."

"I'll wait there," I replied, heading off to my right where the patio Tom mentioned was. As I headed out, he was heading inside, after going around the club and probably taking out one of the perimeter guards.

"You're good here," he said in passing, going back inside the party. I turned, watching as Rachel walked straight past the trio by the bar. Natalie's fiancé immediately followed her with his eyes. She turned, smiling seductively and tossing her blonde hair over her shoulder again.

Tom moved in, taking Rachel's arm and asking her what she thought she was doing. Natalie immediately whirled on her fiancé, apparently already annoyed with him for something, snapping at him in Chinese that I heard over the comms before spinning around and heading in the only direction that wasn't blocked by the bar or by Tom and Rachel – right for the patio.

I turned around again, looking out into the night like I was just minding my own business. A few moments later, I heard the door open and close, and I could hear high heels on the concrete of the patio.

She didn't say anything as she walked up to the railing, brushing her hair back out of her eyes and sighing as she leaned over onto the rail. I stood up a little, looking over at her but waiting for her to say something first. She glanced over at me after a moment, smiling a little.

"Why is it always the teeny little blondes that men go for?" she questioned, her accent barely noticeable over her words. I didn't reply, and she sighed again, shaking her head. "Sorry."

"Not at all," I replied, feigning a British accent. After all, it would be more convincing to come off as British in Shanghai than American – there were more British people in China than there were Americans anyway, especially ones that would know about this particular party.

"You must be one of Yang's friends," she stated with a sigh. "You work at the firm?"

"Something like that," I replied, nodding a little and looking away. She at least seemed curious, which was half the battle. Now I just had to find out how to get her talking about _her_ work.

"This ought to show my father to throw parties for me," she stated, turning and leaning back on the railing with her elbows. I glanced over at her again.

"What do you mean?" I questioned. She sighed again, more for effect than anything.

"_He's_ not even having any fun," she replied. There was a pause, and she looked over at me once more. "Why do I get the feeling you weren't exactly on the guest list for this party?"

"Maybe I wasn't," I shot back with a smile. She smiled back; apparently curious as to why I snuck into her party like this.

"Well, if I didn't know any better, I'd say you might have some kind of agenda," she replied. I stepped away from the railing, turning to face her. "You aren't really here for the party, are you?"

"No, I'm not," I replied, dropping the accent. The smile fell from her face, but she didn't seem surprised. "I need some information."

"So much for thinking I'd actually have some fun here tonight," she muttered under his breath. "All right. What do you want and how much are you willing to pay?"

"Careful, Shotgun," Dixon warned me. "She might have what we're looking for, but she might be one of the people we're after."

"Does the name 'Gordon Dean' mean anything to you?" I questioned. Natalie looked over her shoulder at me, seeming a little surprised at that.

"Who are you?" she questioned.

"That's not the issue here," I replied, glancing back at the party. I could see one of the guards watching the proceedings on the patio, and knew it would only be a few moments before he headed our way. "I know there's someone inside Chinese intelligence – someone involved with whoever Dean was working for."

"If you think I'm telling you that, you're _insane_," Natalie continued, narrowing her eyes and looking annoyed. "You can't pay me enough for that kind of information." She started for the door, but I caught her arm before she got very far.

"Fine, don't consider it a matter of money." She cut me off before I could say anything more.

"You need a name, you'd better look elsewhere," she snapped, pulling her arm away from me. I watched her disappear back inside, sighing in defeat.

"Guys, I think we've got a problem," Rachel stated, suddenly interrupting my thoughts. "One of the guards – I think he noticed something."

"She's right," Tom threw in. "Shotgun, it looks like he's headed your way." I glanced back into the club, seeing the guard I'd noticed near the bar before. Just as Tom said, he was headed straight for the patio.

"Sidewinder, now might be a good time for a distraction," Dixon stated, sounding a little nervous about how we were all going to get out of this one without making a huge scene.

"I'll do what I can," Tom replied. Before he could move, however, the patio door opened again and the man I saw standing by the bar walked out. I tried to keep my cool, figuring maybe he just came out here for some air or for a cigarette or something. He walked up to the railing right beside me, leaning over on it as well.

"You were right to suspect Miss Cho," he stated. He had an accent, but I couldn't quite place it. I looked over at him, realizing he was talking to me. "Just not for the right reason."

"I'm sorry?" I questioned, turning a little to face him. It took me a moment to realize he wasn't a guard at all. He wore a nice tailored suit so that he fit in better with the other guests of the party. His hair was dark and a bit long, all slicked back over his head. He had a short beard as well.

"The information you're looking for is dangerous," he stated. "You'd do well to back off now."

"Oh really?" I asked, keeping my remarks guarded just in case. I didn't know who this man was, but something about him just didn't seem right. He looked over at me.

"Your release from Dean's cell in Prague was authorized by higher means," he said flatly. "The information you have has no value outside Gordon Dean, but continue to press matters and you will be stopped." I clenched my jaw, suddenly realizing what who this man was. He was one of the higher-ups in this mess.

"Call me crazy," I started, my tone completely serious. "I'm through making deals with you people, so you can shove it." He looked at me for a long moment, finally smiling a little.

"I'm not looking for a deal, Mister Vaughn," he replied, shaking his head a little. "I'm just providing a warning. If you continue from this point, there will be consequences." Before I could respond, he turned and went back into the club.

I let out the breath I didn't realize I'd been holding, relieved that he just came to 'warn' me and then disappeared again.

"Shotgun – what was that about?" I heard Tom ask me over the comms. I shook my head a little, glancing down at my watch. Marshall hadn't planned to give us a whole lot of op tech for this particular mission, but I insisted on having something with a camera in it, just in case. Now, I was glad I did.

"I don't know," I replied honestly. "But we'll find out soon enough."


	12. Chapter 12

**Disclaimer: **same

**A/N: **I meant to have this one up earlier, but my muse decided to take an impromptu vacation on me. Anyway, here's chapter 12! Once again, thank you to everyone for the reviews and please continue to leave them for me, it really makes my day! After Wednesday's episode, I should have two chapters up for you! Enjoy!

OOOOO

Unfortunately, Marshall's searches through both APO and CIA archive files turned up nothing on the mystery man at the party in China. Natalie Cho evidently had the information we were looking for, even though the man told me that wasn't why we should be suspicious of her. Of course, he was there to try to warn me away from the investigation again, so that could have been disinformation to send the whole of APO chasing its tail, when the real lead was exactly what we had to begin with.

So, later that week, I gathered up all of the information I could get on Prophet Five – which, as I expected, wasn't much – and piled it all up in the conference room. I knew there had to be another lead buried there somewhere, and I was determined to find out where.

Jack had returned to active duty just the day before, after the near complete failure of a mission to Malaga. I knew he'd already been through all of the information I was now looking at, and while it was pretty much unheard of for Jack Bristow to miss viable Intel, I needed to do something. Just sitting around, waiting for these people to make their next move, would drive me crazy.

As for the purpose of Jack's mission to Malaga, he went in with an MI-6 agent to try and determine who the mole in British Intelligence was. They didn't find anything, however, as Benjamin Musari showed up and stole a micro-pulse bomb from its creator, before the MI-6 operatives could even get there. Musari's men took Jack and the MI-6 operative into custody, and Tom and Dixon had to go to Tunisia to get them out.

APO found out about the micro-pulse bomb, and the upcoming trade with the MI-6 mole, and sent Rachel to get the Intel. Sydney explained to me, briefly, that Rachel thought her mission to Sao Paulo went spectacularly well. Not only did she get what she was after, but she also had a little time to relax, and even met a guy. Unfortunately for her, as well as the rest of APO, that 'guy' turned out to be none other than Julian Sark, who had been hired by Musari to get the same information Rachel was after. Thanks to his interference, Musari ended up with the bomb.

I supposed it was possible that Musari was somehow related to Prophet Five, but it seemed more likely that he was just outside interference. After all, he beat the MI-6 operative to the meet, and why would Prophet Five send him and Sark to intercept the trade if they were going to end up with it to begin with?

As for the overall structure of the organization, it remained a mystery to me. All I knew so far was that Dean operated the CIA-based cell of Prophet Five. There were twelve different cells, all over the world, and we had no idea who was in control of the other eleven. _Actually_, I corrected myself; _we don't even know who took over for Dean when he died._

I also got the feeling there was some higher power involved – someone governing all twelve cells from a centralized position, kind of like Elena's job inside the Covenant. Who that person could be was anyone's guess, though. I'd come up with a couple of different ideas, but none of them made a whole lot of sense, so I hadn't bothered asking anyone else's opinions.

"Hey." I looked up, seeing Sydney enter the room. She smiled a little as she came over to the table, taking a seat beside me and looking at the haphazardly-stacked pile of papers I'd amassed there. "What are you doing?"

"Just… Trying to find another lead," I replied with a sigh, shaking my head a little. "I know there's one in there somewhere. There has to be something we're missing in all this."

"It's late," she said.

"I know," I said, nodding a little and flipping through a few pages. "I just want to try and make some progress. I thought Cho was a good lead and it turns out she's not willing to tell us anything. And then, thanks to Sark, we got shut down in Malaga. Every time we get a lead, it just falls off into a dead end."

"Don't you just hate how that works?" I looked over at her finally, seeing the jesting grin on her face. I smiled a little, shaking my head and sighing.

"Yeah," I agreed. She smiled, and I looked back to the pile of papers. I picked up the grainy surveillance shot Marshall pulled off the small camera in my watch, looking at it for a long moment.

"Maybe Sloane knows who this guy is," I said, mostly to myself. Marshall blew it up as best he could, but it still wasn't a great shot. I was beginning to wonder if the bad resolution was to blame for the lack of information we had on him.

"Marshall ran it through archives twice. There's nothing," Sydney replied. "Besides, Sloane is at the hospital with Nadia." I set the picture down, looking over at her. It was hard to miss the sadness in her voice when she mentioned her sister. I turned my chair so I was facing her, but she didn't look up at me until I reached over and took one of her hands.

"She's going to make it through this," I assured her. "You know Sloane won't stop looking until he finds a cure." She told me a couple of days ago about Nadia waking up for a couple of hours, and that the doctors assumed it was some kind of a fluke – that there was no way it would ever happen again.

"I know," she said quietly. "It's just, hearing the way the doctors talk about her, it's like…" She sighed, shaking her head and looking away again. I put one hand to the side of her face, leaning forward and kissing her gently. She smiled when I sat back in my own chair. "Thanks."

OOOOO

Rachel and Sydney talked it over after I got back, and Rachel eventually decided on getting a hotel room now that I was living there as well. Sydney told me that Rachel spoke to Jack, and he assured her APO would front the bill so that she could live comfortably until a more permanent solution presented itself. I liked Rachel well enough, but it was definitely nice for Sydney and I to have the place to ourselves.

So, that night, I was seated on the bed, my laptop in front of me, going over everything once more. Sydney finally convinced me to leave it alone so we could go home and get some rest, but she was in the shower at the moment. I just couldn't stop looking at everything. I knew I was missing something, and I could tell it was right in front of my face and I just couldn't figure out exactly what it was.

I sighed in annoyance when the phone rang. Sydney called out from the bathroom, asking me to answer in case it was the store that was supposed to be delivering the rest of the nursery furniture sometime tomorrow morning. I stretched over to the other side of the bed, picking the phone up out of the cradle and answering.

"Dude, it's like I'm entering the Twilight Zone. You know, if you consider the documentation, I'm talking to a dead man. Hey there, dead man." I laughed at Weiss's joking tone on the other end of the line.

"What are you doing? Isn't it like the middle of the night where you are?" I questioned, glancing at the clock. It was almost ten in LA, so it was well after midnight in DC.

"No rest for the wicked," he replied with a sigh. "I just heard about what happened. Thanks for calling me when you got back, by the way. I mean, I know I'm like three thousand miles away, but you'd think best friends would call each other and say, 'oh, by the way, I'm _not _dead'."

"I know, I'm sorry. Things here have been, just… About two county lines over from 'chaotic'," I answered.

"Yeah, yeah, sure. Just make excuses, that's fine," Weiss joked. I laughed again, shaking my head a little. "Seriously though, it's kind of a relief to know you're not stupid enough to get yourself killed like that."

"Right," I said after a moment, not really agreeing with him and dropping the joking tone from my voice. He was silent for a moment, apparently sensing I still wasn't so sure my going along with Dean's plan was such a good idea.

"I'm glad you're all right," he finally said, serious now. "I mean, I don't know everything, but they did tell me it was kind of a mess how that all happened."

"Yeah, this whole thing _is _a mess. A very _large_ mess," I answered with a sigh.

"Wish I could help, but someone has to keep the bad guys off America's front lawn," he said, joking again.

"Ha, ha," I replied sarcastically, causing him to start laughing. "It's cool you've got a good deal out there, though. Keeps you away from this nuthouse."

"Yeah, the perks just keep on coming," Weiss stated. "How are things there otherwise? How's Sydney?"

"She's good," I replied with a smile, again glancing off in the direction of the bathroom. The water was still running – probably her attempt to see if I would quit whatever it was I was doing and follow her in there.

"Come on, I've been gone for like three months. I need more detail than that," Weiss replied.

"What do you want me to say?" I asked with a laugh. He sighed.

"Fine, fine. I get it. It's always the people you're close to you don't want to talk about. I swear, protecting your family makes you do some really strange things sometimes."

I was about to say something like 'tell me about it' when an idea came to me. I started exiting out of the search windows I had open on MI-6 and on Natalie Cho, going all the way back to the search prompt.

"What did you say?" I questioned.

"What?" Weiss asked. "Just that you do things you wouldn't normally do when it's the people you care about." I nodded a little to myself, getting to the main search window. "What's going on?"

"I think you might have just solved this mess for me, that's what," I replied. I propped the phone between my ear and my shoulder, returning both hands to the keyboard. I typed in the name 'Yeong Cho' and hit the search button.

"How did I do that?" Weiss asked.

"Hang on a second," I told him. The computer worked for a moment, finally bringing up everything APO's files had on Natalie's father. I scrolled through several pages of text, explaining that he was a wealthy businessman and owned several clubs in Shanghai, so on and so on.

Towards the bottom of the document, I found what I was looking for.

'ALSO OPERATES BLACK-OPS BRANCH OF CHINESE INTELLIGENCE KNOWN AS THE SHED. FURTHER INFORMATION IS CLASSIFIED, LEVEL SIX CLEARANCE REQUIRED.'

I thanked Weiss for his genius remark, even though he had no idea what he'd done to begin with, hanging up the phone and immediately calling APO. I knew Jack would still be there, wanting to get caught up on everything he'd missed over the last couple of weeks.

"Yes?" he answered on the first ring.

"Jack, it's me," I replied. "Listen – the mole inside Chinese Intelligence. I know who it is."

"I read the report, I thought Cho refused to cooperate," he stated, seeming confused.

"Yeah, she did," I replied. "That's because it's her father."

OOOOO

The next morning, everyone was back at APO and gathered in the conference room to go over this new Intel. Once I told Jack that Yeong Cho was the man we were looking for, and that Natalie didn't want to give us the information because she knew it was her father and that other man working for Prophet Five, things seemed to make a bit more sense.

"We've identified one of the cell leaders inside Prophet Five," Jack began the briefing. He leaned forward from where he stood at the head of the table, aligning a photograph over the camera and hitting the button. A second later, a picture of Yeong Cho appeared on the monitors on the wall. "Yeong Cho."

"Wait, Natalie's father?" Rachel asked, surprised.

"That's right," Jack said with a nod. "We believe that to be the reason Natalie refused to give us any information in China."

"So that's what the creep on the patio meant by 'you're just suspecting her for the wrong reason'," Tom threw in.

"It would seem so," Jack answered.

"Is Natalie working for her father?" Sydney questioned.

"It's unclear, but we have to account for that possibility," Jack replied. "We won't be able to use her for information, obviously, but now that we know Yeong is the head of that cell, we can try and use his associates to find out who else might be involved. I want to put every surveillance we have available on Cho – we need to know who he's been in contact with inside other intelligence organizations. This may be our way into Prophet Five."

"What about the people working for him?" Rachel asked suddenly. I looked over at her, seeing the emotion written all over her face. "Do they know who they're really working for?"

"Doubtful," Jack replied, his tone softening when he saw how the thought of hundreds more innocent people being lied to bothered Rachel, who recently experienced the very same situation under Gordon Dean. "Marshall, I want bugs and cameras ready to go within the hour. We've got a flight prepping for China – we'll go in and plant all of the equipment we can."

"Already on it," Marshall said with a nod, hurrying back to his office.

"Rachel, I want you and Tom working on what files we've already got. Go through everything we have on Yeong Cho – I'll give you my level six clearance code for the rest of his files," Jack continued.

"Aye, aye boss," Tom said as he and Rachel stood, going out to Tom's desk – which used to be Weiss's – to start their work.

"Dixon, Vaughn, we'll need blueprints and specs on all of the properties owned by Cho," Jack said. "Anything that will give us more specifics on where he frequents. I want the two of you to go in on this – you're the best we've got for this kind of operation."

"Of course," Dixon said with a nod.

"What should I do?" Sydney asked, looking at her father in question. I could see a hint of annoyance in her expression that he hadn't given her anything to do on this particular task. Jack looked at her, sighing.

"You've already got a contact that might be able to give us more information on the rest of Prophet Five," he replied.

"Renee," she said with a nod.

"Get in touch with her – find out if she knows anything about Cho or his involvement with this. I'm going to put in a call to Chase, see if she can get Cho's name added to the Echelon watch-list," Jack said finally, nodding a little to dismiss the three of us from the meeting and then making his way back to his office.

"All right," Dixon said, looking over at me. "Let's get to work."


	13. Chapter 13

**Disclaimer: **same

**A/N: **Thanks for the reviews! Like I said, I'm going to post chapters 13 and 14 tonight to get caught up with where the show is. Just for the sake of saying it again, there are MAJOR spoilers in this one, including stuff from "The Horizon" (ep 5.09) and the promo clip on AOL from "S.O.S".

OOOOO

Luckily, Dixon's skills with the computer were better than my own and he was able to find blueprints of both Cho's house and his club within about half an hour. Rachel gave us some information on how many guards to expect and what countermeasures had to be accounted for, and Marshall wasted no time getting the tech together that we were going to need.

Once again, it was the four of us on the mission – Dixon, Rachel, Tom and I. Jack figured it would be easier to split into two groups, two of us taking the nightclub and the other two covering Cho's house. That way, there was less chance of the guards at either place alerting one another to our presence.

"We should concentrate on the office upstairs and the VIP lounges around the club," Dixon explained, marking the spots on the blueprint with a black marker as he spoke. The two of us sat in the back of a van just outside Cho's nightclub. It was almost four in the morning in Shanghai, so there weren't any guests around the club. It was unfortunate, considering it would have been much easier to get around inside unnoticed if the place was full of other people. "I'll start with the office – it'll probably take a little longer."

"Okay," I agreed with a nod. "Once I finish up I'll meet you there and we'll get out off the patio. They might have an extra guard there after last time, though."

"Doubtful. Cho will assume no one will try that way again," Dixon threw in. "Here." He handed me a small black bag – all of the surveillance equipment. "Marshall says the bugs are prepped with an adhesive on the back, so there shouldn't be any problem sticking them to anything."

"All right." Dixon led the way out of the van, taking a moment to look around the outside of the club. Finally, he pointed to the side service entrance. The guard normally posted by that door had circled around to the front of the club to talk to the others.

I followed him across the street, sticking to the shadows and counting on the black tactical gear to make us even harder to see. Dixon reached the door first, pulling an access card out of his pocket. Apparently, Marshall wrote one that would override whatever code was supposed to be entered into the keypad by the door, allowing us access without having to worry about getting an actual card from one of the guards outside the club.

Once the door was open, I went inside and straight for the VIP rooms. The club looked eerie with only the emergency lights on, and it was strangely quiet aside from the hum of a central heating unit. I glanced back over my shoulder, seeing Dixon dart across the main dance floor and head for the stairs leading to the office.

The bugs Marshall designed were incredibly small, and the adhesive on the back was pretty strong. I spent about twenty seconds just trying to get the first one to stop sticking to my fingers, finally figuring out that it was easier to pick them up by the sides and place them that way.

The club had four VIP lounges all along one side of the back hall, across from what I assumed was a storage room of some kind. I had several of the bugs left over, and placed a few throughout the club for good measure before heading up the stairs to meet up with Dixon.

I stopped short just outside the office door when I heard a crash. I turned and leaned back against the wall, drawing my gun and glancing into the office from the very edge of the doorway. Dixon was lying on the floor, conscious but hurt, and a guard stood over him, gun raised. The guard looked familiar somehow…

"Stay down or I'll shoot," he said. Suddenly, I realized why he seemed familiar. It was Carl. _What the hell is he doing here?_ I wondered. I didn't have time to figure it out right now – obviously he moved to a different cell of Prophet Five when Dean died, and now he worked for Cho.

I moved around the edge of the doorframe as quietly as possible. Dixon saw me, and started trying to get to his feet to keep Carl distracted. His finger started to tense on the trigger, and I kicked out at his hand. The gun went off, firing a round into the ceiling of the office. Carl cried out, stumbling back and dropping his weapon. I wasted no time hitting him with the butt of my sidearm, knocking him back into the wall and leveling the gun at his head.

"You all right?" I asked Dixon, not taking my eyes off Carl.

"Fine," Dixon replied. "I've just got a few more." He picked his package up off the floor, going back over to the desk and sticking a couple of bugs around the phone and the computer. Carl narrowed his eyes at me, looking annoyed.

"I knew I should have killed you," he snapped.

"That's your problem," I shot back. "Obviously you're valued enough that you started working for Cho after Dean died, so you're gonna have to come with us."

"I won't tell you anything," he replied, grinning coldly.

"Let's go," Dixon said. "We'll see how he feels when he meets Jack."

OOOOO

Tom and Rachel didn't run into any problems at Cho's house, as he was in Japan for some kind of business acquisition deal that had something to do with his club. I let Dixon tie Carl up when we got him back to the van, and keep him unconscious for the flight back to Los Angeles until he was in a holding cell inside APO. Jack wasn't there when the four of us returned, which I thought was unfortunate. I found it kind of ironic the way the tables were turned on him, but didn't really want to try and deal with him myself.

Tom vanished into op tech soon after we got back, and Rachel went back into the conference room to continue reviewing Cho's files and try to compile a list of contacts to keep an eye on. Dixon went to talk to Sloane about something, since he was actually at APO at the moment, leaving me to wait for Jack to return to find out what to do with Carl. I was sitting at my desk, writing the report for our second mission to China when I saw Sydney approach.

"Hey," I greeted. "How'd the doctor's visit go?"

"All right," she replied, pulling a nearby chair over and taking a seat next to me. "My dad gave me this." She took a small, old-fashioned silver rattle out of her bag. "He said it was mine when I was a baby. I can't believe he still had it." I smiled at her a little, and she sighed. "I still wish you would have been there instead of him, but…"

"I know, I'm sorry," I replied, smiling a little. "What did he say?"

"He was just asking the doctor if I should be doing less at work. Trying to find an excuse to take me off active duty," she replied, shaking her head a little. "Didn't work, which was nice."

"I don't know, maybe he has a point," I suggested. She just gave me a 'look', making me laugh. "Sorry."

"Come on, I thought you were on my side, here," she chided with a grin.

"I'm always on your side," I said seriously. "Still, this isn't exactly a low-stress environment, and that's a risk you shouldn't have to take."

"Since when do you know so much?" she joked.

"I am not above using the Internet to satisfy my curiosity," I replied with a grin. She just rolled her eyes.

"I know. And the doctor told me that I could go into labor any day now, but being right in the middle of all this… I can't just stop here, you know? That's like trying to put down a really good mystery book right before you find out who the killer is," Sydney explained, shaking her head. "That would drive me crazy."

"Yes, it would, which would in turn drive everyone _else _crazy – okay, I guess I see your point." She glared and me and playfully punched me in the arm.

"Thanks a lot," she said.

"I'm sorry – blame the jet lag."

"Sydney, Vaughn?" I looked up, seeing Jack standing over my desk. "I need you both in the conference room."

OOOOO

"Four hours ago, an agency facility storing closed matters was breached," Jack began, circling the table in the conference room as he spoke. He cued up a surveillance photo of a dark-haired woman. "Security cameras identified the perpetrator as an operative of Prophet Five."

"Kelly Peyton," Rachel stated. It was hard to recognize her from the photo, but once Rachel said something, it was clear that it was Peyton.

"Do we know what she took?" Dixon asked.

"Among the archives were files of all our agents killed in the line of duty," Jack continued. "They're contact protocols, audio logs, biometric readouts-"

"They were Vaughn's files, weren't they?" Sydney interrupted. I looked over at her, suddenly coming to the same conclusion.

"Yes," Jack agreed with a nod.

"Wait, why is Prophet Five after my old CIA files?" I asked.

"We don't know," Jack replied. "Your investigation into Prophet Five – there was nothing in your records?"

"No, I kept everything off-book," I replied, shaking my head. "There's nothing in those files that's even relevant."

"I've tasked Tom and Marshall with disabling all of Vaughn's official protocols. I'd like you to locate any of his old contacts and issue a warning," Jack started, looking over at Dixon. "Sloane will oversee Rachel in analyzing the remainder of the Intel." Sloane and Rachel stood, exiting the room, followed closely by Dixon.

"Wait, I can't help them do any of that?" I asked, looking over at Jack.

"Considering the break-in to steal your old personnel files, it would appear that Peyton and her immediate associates don't know you survived past Gordon Dean's death," Jack stated. "Allowing you to continue working in the field or on this would compromise that."

"I've got to be able to work on something," I replied.

"I'll get you the files Rachel was working with on Yeong Cho, you can go through his associates, see if anything jumps out at you," Jack offered. I nodded a little, knowing there was no way I could convince him to let me do much else. I was a little surprised that he was so willing to try and protect me, but that didn't mean it wasn't frustrating.

"What about Renee?" Sydney asked Jack and I. "She might know why Prophet Five would be after your files," she continued, looking over at me.

"See if you can schedule a meet with her," Jack stated before heading for his office.

OOOOO

"Remember that conversation we had before about risks you shouldn't be taking?" I asked Sydney, following her away from her desk as she headed for the door. "This would be one of them."

"She might know what Prophet Five is after – we can't pass up that lead," she replied, shaking her head a little and stopping in the hall that led out of APO. She turned around, facing me. "My OB told me it's safe to fly through this week. I'm just going to Madrid, I'll meet with Renee and turn around and come right back."

"Someone should at least go with you," I insisted.

"You heard my dad, he doesn't want you in the field until we resolve this," she replied.

"Fine, not me then. Tom, Dixon; _someone_," I replied.

"I'll be fine," she said again. She smiled a little. "I'll call the second the meet's over and I'm on the way back, all right?" She leaned close, kissing me and trying to be reassuring. She smiled again when she stepped back. "I do still know how to take care of myself, you know."

"I know," I replied quietly. "Just be careful."

"I promise," she said.


	14. Chapter 14

**A/N: **Here's 14 and please review! Thanks!

OOOOO

Going over all of Rachel's notes on Cho's associates was time-consuming and boring. I knew it was important, but I still wanted to be doing something more. Everyone else was going over _my _files and _my _contacts and I wasn't allowed anywhere near any of it. I knew Jack was probably right – there was a good chance Peyton and whoever she was working with didn't know I was still alive.

I sighed, rubbing my eyes tiredly and glancing at my watch again. I understood why Sydney insisted on taking care of this herself, but I was still worried about her. A good deal of my CIA files covered missions and information that was all related to Sydney. Which meant there was a chance that whatever Prophet Five was looking for, they thought they could get it from her.

Cho's list of contacts and associates was pretty long, and most of the people on the list were either business associates or other people inside Chinese Intelligence. I didn't know if any of them were involved in Prophet Five or if they were simply just other operatives that didn't know Cho was corrupt.

However, there was one name on the list that didn't seem to have any correlation to anything – Eherman. I had to wonder if that was the guy at the party in Shanghai. His name was linked to several transactions in Cho's business account, but there was nothing to prove that he worked at the club or had anything to do with the actual business.

Maybe Eherman was the one in charge of this whole thing? I supposed it was a possibility, even though I'd never even heard the name before. But, then again, all of the names I _was _coming up with seemed ridiculous anyway, so that didn't leave me with grounds for debate.

I glanced at my watch again. Allowing a little extra time for the flight and a good fifteen minutes for Sydney's meeting with Renee, it was getting a little late. I figured maybe there had been some kind of issue with transportation or something, and tried not to worry about it too much.

However, when another twenty minutes went by and I still hadn't heard from her, I knew something was wrong. I closed Cho's files, determined to find Jack and see if there was some way for us to contact Sydney – find out what was going on.

"Hey, Vaughn, what's up?" Marshall questioned. He was on his way back to op tech, I figured, and smiled a little in greeting as I walked towards the conference room. Before I had the chance to answer, Jack approached, a serious look on his face.

"Prophet Five has Sydney," he stated.

"What?" I questioned, thinking I must have heard him wrong.

"She was last seen in a black van, heading west away from the Salamanca Quarter," Jack replied as everyone gathered around to try and figure out our next move. "Rachel, access Madrid's surveillance infrastructure," Jack directed.

"Okay," Rachel replied, starting off.

"Marshall, monitor all movement through local ports and airspace," Jack said.

"What's the timeline?" Marshall asked.

"She was abducted forty minutes ago," Jack replied.

"Well, they could've had her outside the city limits in twenty," Marshall continued.

"Then _move_," Jack instructed, giving Marshall the motivation he needed to dash back to his office. "We're assuming Sydney's capture is connected to something Prophet Five found in Agent Vaughn's files."

"I'll re-asses them with that in mind," Tom said, already moving.

"Doctor Alder Desantos was present at the ambush, which implies they may intend to use Sydney for a medical procedure," Jack continued.

"My god, the baby," Sloane added.

"Renee Rienne has Desantos in custody. I'm gonna join her and assist with the interrogation," Jack stated.

"Do you want me to come with you?" Dixon asked.

"No. I need you to run operations until I return," Jack answered.

"I'll secure a flight to Spain for you," Dixon stated, heading off.

"Then I'm going," I stated.

"Vaughn, we've been over this. The majority of Prophet Five doesn't know you escaped Dean's custody – as soon as they find out, they will resume their attempts to silence you, and we can't risk that," Jack answered.

"Screw that – you're telling me Sydney has been captured, we don't know where she is, and they're going to try and run medical procedures on her? Something like that could hurt the baby – there is no way _in hell _you can expect me to sit here and do nothing, Jack," I replied, raising my voice as I spoke.

"Yes I can, and you will if you value your life," Jack snapped. "I understand your frustration, believe me, but if Prophet Five finds you and realizes they can get whatever answer they're looking for from you much easier than getting it out of Sydney, what do you think they'll do to her?"

I clenched my jaw and didn't say anything. _Dammit, I hate how he's always right._ If the people that abducted Sydney knew they could get whatever they were after straight from me, they would just kill her to get her out of the way.

"Right now, they believe that using Sydney is the only way to get what they're after. We _have _to allow them to think that, or she won't be of any use to them," Jack continued, his tone softening when he realized he'd made his point.

"I can't just sit here and do nothing," I said again.

"Go back through Cho's files – see if there's anything that suggests he's connected to this, or if any of his associates might be," Jack offered. I just shook my head in disbelief, going back to my desk.

I took a seat, immediately trying to come up with other options. There had to be something I could do – someone I could talk to that might have more information or more influence.

Suddenly, I had an idea.

I grabbed the phone, scrolling through numbers on my cell phone until I found the one Weiss gave me when he called the other night, right before I hung up to call Jack about Yeong Cho.

"Weiss," he answered.

"It's me," I stated. "I need your help."

"What's up, you sound freaked," Weiss replied.

"There's this group, Prophet Five – what do you know?" I asked.

"Bad news. Cell leaders buried in Intelligence all over the world, very shady business. Dean worked for them, they were the ones that almost killed you," Weiss stated. "Why?"

"They have Sydney," I stated.

"Oh god," Weiss said under his breath. "Okay, uh, what happened?"

"She was in Madrid, meeting with Renee Rienne. Apparently they grabbed her there. I need to figure out who's running all of this and where they might have taken her, and Jack won't let me touch the investigation because he doesn't want them to know I'm alive," I continued.

"Yeah, okay. Uh, do you have a name I can run through the archives here?" Weiss questioned.

"Yeah, 'Eherman'," I told him.

"First name, last name…?"

"I don't know, just… Please, just run both."

"I got it." I heard Weiss typing the name into his computer, and there was a pause as he waited for the information to pop up. "Okay, I've got a hit. Edward Eherman – he's a British ex-pat with a permanent address in Russia. He's got property holdings in Istanbul, Spain, China, Italy, and half a dozen other places. Forty-seven years of age. Is that your guy?"

"Is there a picture?"

"Yeah."

"Can you send it here?"

"Give me a sec." I heard more typing, and then a message popped up on my screen. "Gotta love T-1 lines." I opened the message, clicking on the link for the picture.

It was the man from Shanghai.

"That's him," I told Weiss.

"You think he's behind Prophet Five?" he questioned.

"I don't know – that's the only name I've got right now."

"Woah," Weiss said suddenly.

"What?"

"In his file, it lists all his known associations. 'Known ties to several members of Russian Intelligence, both SVR and KGB'."

"Does it give any names?"

"Yeah, a few. Nothing important, but…" He stopped. "Oh, god."

"What?"

"The last name on the list: Irina Derevko."

OOOOO

"Was that Jack?" I asked Dixon as I went into Jack's office just as Dixon hung up the phone.

"He and Renee found an address in Hungary, they're going to check it out," Dixon answered. "Why – what's up?"

"I just talked to Weiss in DC – we found out who this guy is," I replied, handing him the photo of Eherman from Shanghai.

"Who?" Dixon asked.

"His name is Eherman," I replied. "That's not all – he's got a list of known connections in the SVR and some dating back to the KGB. Including Irina Derevko." Dixon looked up at me in surprise. "Yeah."

"You think she's tied to this?" Dixon asked me.

"It would explain how she knew I was investigating Prophet Five," I replied.

"Is Weiss still on the line?"

"Yeah."

"Ask him to cross-check this address in Hungary – see if there's any connection there," Dixon replied, writing down the address and handing it to me.

"Okay."

OOOOO

Weiss didn't have anything on the address in Hungary, and there was nothing else in the files APO had access to that gave us any leads on where Sydney might be. After finding that she wasn't in Hungary, Jack returned to APO. Sydney had been missing for over twenty-four hours now, and I was starting to worry that we might not find her in time.

"What do we have?" Jack asked, coming into op tech where Marshall and I were going over all of the surveillance footage we could find from Madrid a second time to see if we missed something. Most everyone else went home long ago, and some of them had even come back after getting a good night's rest.

Of course, for me, that was out of the question.

"Nothing," Marshall replied, disappointed. "By the time we logged in and started recording, they were already gone." I decided against mentioning Irina to Jack at the moment – we still didn't have any proof that she was even connected to this. The more I thought about it, though, the more sense it made.

"Let me know the second you find something," Jack said. He stepped just outside the room to talk to one of the other agents. Marshall continued running several programs on his computer, one of them a receiver for any kind of free-channel communication that we might be able to intercept.

I looked up when I heard a small snippet of something. Marshall looked at the computer, frantically trying to close in on the signal. Even though we weren't getting much, it was Sydney's voice.

"Um, Mister Bristow? Mister Bristow," Marshall said, getting Jack's attention again and motioning for him to come back into the room. "I just recovered a field transmission. It's from Sydney."

"Where is she?" Jack asked, looking at the computer screen. I was hovering near the screen as well, waiting for Marshall to 'work his magic' and come up with something for us to go on.

"Okay, here we go," he said, replaying the transmission so we could try and figure out where she was.

"This is field agent ID Black-seven-niner-CR confirmation Foxtrot-" Suddenly, she stopped. There was a pause, and she started over. "This is field agent ID…" Again, there was a pause.

"What's going on? What's wrong?" I asked. Marshall just shook his head a little.

"It's not something wrong with the feed," he replied after a moment.

"Repeat, confirmation Foxtrot One. Status is MIA, I'm being held aboard a cargo freighter, registry unknown," Sydney finally explained. There was another pause, and the feed was lost.

"What happened?" Jack questioned.

"I don't know," Marshall replied, typing frantically and trying to recover the transmission. "It's like the files just corrupted…" He paused, looking at the screen and shaking his head. "You know what, they're being… Deleted – this doesn't make any sense." He looked up at Jack. "It's like someone just wiped out the archive, I don't-"

"Marshall, what archive?" Jack questioned. "Whose system are you logged into?" Marshall looked at the computer screen for a moment, as something deleted hundreds of files and kicked his computer completely out of the system.

"Wait a minute, this can't be right," Marshall said, shaking his head. "This… This must be wrong." He tried to log in again, and a window popped up explaining that APO's network was no longer existent.

"It's not wrong," Jack replied. "We've been hacked."


	15. Chapter 15

**Disclaimer: **same

**A/N: **HappyNew Year everyone! Sorry this chapter took a little longer than expected. I was trying to decide just what direction I wanted to go in, now that I'm not really following the show anymore, and it took a while to come up with something clever. So, here's chapter fifteen! Enjoy and please review!

OOOOO

"What do you mean, 'hacked'?" I questioned. Jack just shook his head a little, and I could tell he was considerably panicked by this sudden turn of events. At least, about as panicked as Jack ever got, but considering this was probably only the second or third time I'd _ever _seen him like this, that meant a lot.

"The network is gone. We have to evacuate," he replied, his voice steady despite the gravity of the situation.

"Evacuate? Where?" Marshall questioned. Jack didn't reply as he led the way out of the room. I glanced around, seeing most everyone else starting to gather in the main room of APO to try and figure out why none of the computers were working. I could see that everyone was somewhat confused by the sudden network crash, and even more so by the look on Jack's face and the way he started leading everyone outside.

"What about Sydney?" I asked.

"There's nothing we can do from here, and if we don't leave there's no telling what might happen," Jack answered. "Obviously someone gained access to our secure servers. The same people that deleted our archives could be on their way to invade this office as we speak. We've got to move, now."

"Marshall, is there any way you can trace the signal from that transmission?" I questioned, stopping in the middle of the room and looking over at Marshall. He thought for a moment, not saying a word as he spun around and darted back to his office. I could practically feel Jack glaring angrily at the back of my head as I followed Marshall. He went straight to his laptop, opening it and typing rapidly.

"I can't get into APO's network, of course, but I did see the frequency numbers flash by before we lost the feed. If I can run a back-trace on that frequency, I should be able to get an idea of where she might be. Assuming, of course, no one _else_ is using that frequency," Marshall explained as he typed.

"You can just run a trace over the Internet?" I asked him, a little confused when he jumped on Internet Explorer and started running a few other programs in separate windows.

"Well, I copied some of the programs I used on the APO network onto this computer, because… Like, remember the time with the nerve agent that got released in here? I wanted to be able to run certain things if there was ever an issue like that again," Marshall explained, shrugging a little.

"Marshall, you're a genius," I stated. Marshall smiled a little, shrugging one shoulder again at the compliment.

"Come on," Jack called to the two of us. I glanced back over my shoulder, hoping that the determined look on my face would communicate exactly what I wanted it to. I wasn't leaving until we had _something_ to go on.

"Okay, here we go," Marshall said. I looked back at the computer screen, seeing a large map. The view zoomed in, tracing the frequency, until it zeroed in on a spot in the Indian Ocean. "There it is. That's her. The signal was used to send one transmission before it was cut off. That was right before the hack here."

"We need to get out there," I stated.

"I can coordinate a chopper once we've evacuated." I turned, seeing that Jack stepped back into the room and seen Marshall's computer locate Sydney. "Half an hour, tops."

"Thank you," I said with a nod.

"Let's go."

Once everyone was clear of APO and Jack seemed relatively certain no one was planning to launch an attack on the office, he called out to a nearby airstrip run by CIA personnel, telling them we needed a helicopter ready to go in ten minutes. He found Dixon, telling him to go with me and handed me a gun he obviously kept on him at all times.

"I trust you'll bring her back quickly," he stated, not waiting around for me to respond. I followed Dixon to his car, hopping in the passenger seat as we raced to the helicopter.

OOOOO

By the time our pilot found the ship in the middle of the Indian Ocean, it was nighttime. The freighter was still traveling, even though I didn't see anyone aboard. Of course, we had no idea what might have happened in the last few hours. I just hoped we would find Sydney, alive and unharmed, and do so quickly. She obviously escaped her captors long enough to make that short transmission, but judging by the way it got cut off, there was no way of knowing if they'd caught up with her shortly thereafter.

Dixon raised his gun and stepped out of the helicopter first. Both of us had changed into black tactical gear on the way – something of a challenge in a small helicopter, but still possible. Considering the mission and that it was only the two of us, we figured it would be better to blend in with the shadows a little more. I followed him, seeing another black chopper near where we landed. I didn't see a pilot or any passengers, but there would be at least a few people aboard that we had to contend with.

"I'll start up here. You go below the deck, start searching the rest of the rooms," Dixon stated. I just nodded before starting off.

The darkness made it very difficult to see anything, and it wasn't much better inside than on the deck. I ducked around the first corner, wishing we'd had the time to gather some more gear before just rushing off. Of course, in the process of evacuating APO, everything got left behind long before we even made it to the helicopter. Thankfully, we found the stealth suits and a set of walkie-talkies in an emergency utility box in the helicopter. The walkie-talkies would be useful so Dixon and I could still communicate.

"Anything?" Dixon asked me over the walkie-talkie.

"Not yet," I replied quietly. I was careful to stick to the walls and move as quietly as I could. The darkness gave me some cover, but it would provide the same cover to anyone _else_ hiding around the next bend in the path. I wanted to be the one surprising the guards or whoever else might have been aboard – not the other way around.

After a few minutes of this, I saw a light coming from some kind of control room deep in the belly of the ship. There was someone inside, dressed in solid black with dark hair. For a second, I thought it was Sydney. Then, I realized that it wasn't her, and why I'd thought it _was_.

"Freeze!" I barked, holding my gun at the ready as I approached her back. "Hands in the air." Irina turned to face me, her expression an odd mix of surprise and annoyance.

"Agent Vaughn," she said with a nod. "It's been a while."

"You know, maybe it's just that I've been doing this too long and nothing surprises me anymore, but it figures that _you're_ the one behind all of this," I snapped. "How else would you, of all people, have found out about my investigation? It's _your_ organization I was trying to learn about."

"I'm sorry for what happened with Gordon Dean," she stated. "Believe me, ordering your death was not easy to do. I knew how unhappy it would make my daughter." I clenched my jaw and didn't say anything. She smiled a little as she spoke. "I didn't expect Dean to go back on my orders."

"Bet you didn't expect him to kill himself, either," I snapped. She just smiled a little, her expression revealing nothing about whatever it was she obviously knew that I didn't.

"Where's Sydney?" I questioned.

"I don't know," she replied, shaking her head. "She got loose; I was trying to turn the power back on to look for her."

"I found her; we're heading for the helicopter!" Dixon suddenly radioed to me. I glanced down at the walkie-talkie just briefly, but that was all the opportunity Irina needed. Before I knew what happened, she had spun on her heel and snatched something off the desk to her left. She turned and hit me in the side of the head, knocking me off my feet.

I stumbled, my fingers tightening and firing a round into the floor. I refused to loosen my grip on the gun, until Irina hit me again. I fell facedown on the floor, hearing her run off.

"Vaughn, what's going on?" Dixon asked over the radio. I sat up painfully, picking Jack's gun up off the floor and gently touching the side of my head where I was now bleeding. I shook my head a little, trying to get the spots to stop swimming before my eyes and regain my balance despite the swift blow to the skull.

"It's Irina – she's here. She got away, I'm going to go after her," I replied.

"There's no time," Dixon stated.

"What do you mean – what's going on? Is Sydney all right?" I questioned, fearful of the tone in his voice.

"She's all right," Dixon replied, sounding slightly unsure of himself. "But she's in labor."

OOOOO

Sydney was in and out of consciousness on the helicopter, either because of the pain she was in or because of whatever happened to her on the ship. Dixon, who had some basic field-rated medical training, assured the pilot of the helicopter that we could make it back to Los Angeles and to a CIA-hospital before she gave birth, and that it would be ideal considering we still had no idea what happened to her while she was held prisoner. Finally, the man relented and agreed to take us to the hospital where Sydney originally planned to have the baby.

Dixon called Jack en route, explaining the situation so that he would be prepared to meet the three of us at the hospital. As were got ready to land, Dixon looked over at me and seemed to notice the gash in the side of my head for the first time. I saw his eyes widen when he looked over, glancing away to try and divert his attention elsewhere.

"Are you all right?" he questioned. I just nodded a little, even though I was beginning to feel a little dizzy, and I could feel that the blood continued running down the side of my head, reaching my chin. "You should have that looked at when we get inside – it looks pretty bad."

"I don't want to leave her," I answered, looking down at Sydney. She seemed stuck somewhere between awake and asleep, her head occasionally lolling from side-to-side. I had no idea what was happening to her, but I hated the thought of leaving her until I knew that she and the baby were safe. Of course, I knew it was likely the doctors would keep us out of the way until they had a chance to do their job, but I wasn't going to voluntarily leave her side.

Finally, we landed and a team of doctors from inside the hospital met us right on the landing pad. I kept my hand locked onto Sydney's as we all went inside, careful to duck under the spinning blades of the helicopter's rotors.

"How long has she been in labor?" one of the doctors questioned as we all moved inside, out of the wind and the noise the chopper was creating outside.

"At least five or six hours," Dixon replied.

"All right, we've got a team standing by. Has she been conscious at all since you found her?" the doctor questioned when he realized that she wasn't lucid.

"Sort of," Dixon replied. "She comes and goes. She was awake when I found her, but she seemed disoriented. I'm not sure what happened, but she lost consciousness on the way here."

"Are you all right?" I glanced over, seeing one of the other doctors staring at the side of my head. Her eyes widened. "We should take a look at that cut."

"It's fine," I replied, shaking my head a little.

"How is she?" I looked up from the chaos in the hall, seeing Jack come around the corner and join the procession towards wherever we were going. He seemed worried as well, but a lot more controlled than Dixon and I.

"We'll know more soon," the doctor that seemed to be leading things around here stated. "You three will have to wait here until we know she's stable." He spun around and cut Jack, Dixon and I off as the rest of his team continued moving Sydney down into a different hall. "Let us do our work and this will go quickly." He vanished after that.

"What happened?" I glanced over at Jack, blinking back the pain in my head again when I turned. I sighed, looking at the ground in disbelief.

"It was Irina," I stated finally. I looked back up at Jack. He seemed confused for a moment. "She's running this whole thing. When I had Weiss check into Cho's contacts from Washington, her name was on the list."

"You don't have proof that it was her in the Indian Ocean," Jack tried.

"She's the one that hit me," I replied flatly. I knew that, after thinking Irina was on our side after all and seeing her 'vulnerable' side again, Jack was starting to think she was good after all. He nodded a little, obviously somewhat lost in thought.

"I'll call Director Chase and inform her of the situation. She'll want to get someone on it as soon as possible," he finally said, moving off down the hall to find a phone. I closed my eyes for a moment, looking over at Dixon finally and sighing.

"Let's see if we can find somewhere to wait for the doctor," he stated.


	16. Chapter 16

**Disclaimer: **same

**A/N: **Hey everyone! I am SO sorry it's been so long since I updated. I got to the end of the last chapter and kind of hit a wall. I was totally lost on where to go from where I was for a long while there, but I finally got an idea to go with so it should go a bit better now. This is another 'transition' chapter so it's a little shorter. I should have more soon. Again, sorry about the wait! Hope you enjoy the chapter!

OOOOO

Jack must have said something to one of the doctors when he went off to find a phone, because two of them immediately flocked to the waiting area before Dixon and I even had the chance to sit down. One of them insisted Dixon stay there and wait for news about Sydney, while the other took me off towards a completely different wing of the hospital. I managed to convince him to stay relatively close to where Dixon and Sydney were, after a good deal of bartering, and agreed to sit still while he cleaned up and stitched the gash in my head.

He told me I had a concussion, which I already knew because of the way I'd get dizzy when I moved my head and the sudden drowsiness that came out of nowhere. Another thing I noticed was that I wasn't entirely comfortable being in the hospital. Probably because the last time I was in one, it was all a setup for Prophet Five to make the CIA think I was dead.

"All right, that should do it," the doctor said, trimming the excess off the thread he was using to close the wound in my scalp. "Of course I can't give you anything for the pain until we're sure the concussion isn't too severe." Before he could finish, another doctor stepped into the room.

"Excuse me," she said. "Miss Bristow was asking for you."

I ignored the other doctor as he started rattling on about keeping me somewhere that he could monitor me, glad that the second doctor seemed content to do the same. I followed her back through the doors where they took Sydney maybe an hour before as she explained that she was stable and they had her on a monitor to make sure the baby was all right, pointing me towards her room before wandering off. I had the feeling she was going to find Jack and Dixon and tell them Sydney was all right, so I went ahead in.

"Hey," she said, smiling when she saw me. I smiled a little in reply, going to the side of the bed and leaning over to kiss her before sitting down on the edge of the bed. "So, what was that you were saying about stress before?"

"Very funny," I shot back sarcastically. "Are you all right? You were pretty out of it on the way here." She nodded a little. She still seemed a little disconnected, but I figured that was more from whatever pain meds they'd put her on than anything.

"I'm fine," she replied. "They gave me something… Some kind of hallucinogen, I think." She pressed one hand to the side of her head, seeming lost in thought for a moment. "Tried to get me to remember something, some name."

"You and the baby are fine, though?" I asked again. She looked over at me again, smiling softly.

"Yeah. No, there was someone else there, behind this one-sided mirror," she replied, shaking her head a little. "I tried to figure out who it was, but the guy wouldn't tell me." I just nodded and figured that now wasn't the time to mention Irina's presence on the ship. "Anyway, they kept trying to make sure that whatever they were giving me wasn't going to hurt the baby."

"I'm glad you're all right," I said after a moment, smiling a little. "Both of you." She grinned at that.

"What about you?" she asked, nodding to the side of my head.

"It's nothing, just doctors being paranoid," I replied, dismissing it that easily. I didn't want her worrying about me at the moment – that would be kind of counter-productive. Before she could say anything more, her grip on my hand tensed. I glanced over at the monitor, seeing the spike that signified a contraction start to appear on the right. It only lasted a moment, and I looked back at Sydney. She shook her head a little, looking annoyed.

"God," she said. "I've been smacked around, thrown by guys twice my size, tortured and given electroshock – you'd think I could handle this," she joked. I laughed at her frustration with the pain.

"Yeah, well, tell that to Isabelle, because I don't think she really cares about any of that," I replied. She laughed a little, smiling again at that.

"You remembered," she said, the grin growing even wider. I leaned down, kissing her gently on the forehead.

"Of course I did."

OOOOO

Isabelle Nadia Bristow-Vaughn was born a little over six and a half hours later. Neither of us could decide on a middle name, so I finally suggested Nadia's name, which Sydney thought was perfect. Everything went smoothly, which was nice considering the week everyone had already had. More craziness was about the last thing anyone needed. It was afternoon by the time everything was settled down, and despite my headache and being so exhausted I didn't think I could move, I was seated on the bed right next to Sydney, watching our daughter sleep against her chest.

"She has your ears," Sydney said quietly, smiling at me.

"Yeah, and my nose too," I stated. She shot me a look, knowing that my nose wasn't something I was particularly fond of, especially after it getting broken a couple times when I was younger. "At least she has your chin."

"I like your chin," Sydney replied, smiling again and kissing the side of my jaw. I smiled, watching Isabelle shift as Sydney moved and try to grab the pink blanket wound around her even tighter.

"She's so tiny," I said quietly, reaching out a finger and touching the back of her hand. She moved again, trying to wrap her tiny fingers around mine. "Can you believe your hands were ever that small?"

"No," Sydney answered honestly. "Your finger is like the same size as her whole hand." I smiled a little at her. Isabelle moved again and opened her eyes just a little – just enough for us to get a glimpse of that chocolate brown color – before settling in against Sydney's chest.

"She's beautiful," I told her. "Just like you." Sydney smiled at that, leaning up and kissing me. She pulled away after a moment, and I could tell she was thinking because she got really quiet and started staring at some undefined point on the other side of the room. "What is it?"

"Hmm?" she asked, looking back at me. I raised my eyebrows a little in question and she broke out in a smile again. "Sorry. It's just… I'm really glad you're here."

"Me too." I kissed her again, looking up when I heard the door open. Jack stepped into the room, smiling at the two of us.

"Sorry if I'm interrupting," he said, keeping his voice down so he didn't accidentally wake Isabelle.

"Hey," Sydney said with a smile. Jack stepped over to the side of the bed, looking down at his granddaughter. "Isn't she cute?"

"She is," he agreed, still smiling. "And you're both all right? No problems?"

"We're fine, Dad," she replied, giving him a toned-down version of her 'annoyed daughter' look. "What's going on? Did you reach Chase?"

"I did," he replied with a nod. "You shouldn't worry about that right now, though."

"It's okay – I know about Mom," she replied quickly. Jack looked surprised for a moment, and then he looked up at me in question. "It was obvious once I thought about it. Besides, the fact that you two were avoiding telling me what was going on kind of gave it away."

"Of course," Jack said, serious now as he nodded. "I told Chase about Irina's involvement in Prophet Five. She's got a team on the cargo ship, but of course Irina was long gone by the time they got there. She hopes we'll find something, but it's doubtful."

"What about APO?" I questioned. I mentioned the crash to Sydney between doctors and room changes, but I didn't have a whole lot of information to share since Dixon and I left so quickly after the evacuation.

"Thanks to Marshall's ingenuity, he's been able to run things remotely, for now. Of course, a good deal of our archive was completely erased. There's been another team sent there to make sure no one invaded the office once the evacuation was over, and to try and recover any of the data they can. Marshall went with them, of course," Jack explained.

"So everything we had on Prophet Five is gone," I finished.

"Except for what little we had on Cho that we put in those files you had in the conference room, yes," Jack agreed. "Not that there was much to lose to begin with, of course."

"We might have another lead," Sydney said. "On the freighter, they were after something. A name. They were looking for something called 'The Horizon'."

"Which is?" Jack questioned.

"I have no idea," she replied, shaking her head. "That was all I heard."

"Did they get the name?" Jack asked.

"No, I… I made one up. They seemed convinced, though, so at least they'll be chasing their tails on that for now," Sydney answered. Before Jack could continue his inquiry, Isabelle started to wake up. She looked up at Sydney, reaching a hand out towards her face to try and get her attention.

"All right," Jack said with a nod. "I'll see if I can learn anything else, maybe Chase found something we can use."


	17. Chapter 17

**Disclaimer: **same

**A/N: **Thanks everyone for the reviews! Here's chapter 17 and please continue to let me know what you think!

OOOOO

I stayed with Sydney for a couple of hours, until her nurse insisted that they take Isabelle off to bathe her and give her a couple of immunizations or something, and give Sydney the chance to get some sleep. The small waiting room outside Sydney's room had been completely taken over by APO's staff. Marshall sat to one side of the room with his computer, cables strung over chairs and end tables to three or four other machines, all with techs or analysts sitting at them and typing rapidly. There were maybe five or six others, darting back and forth with files and calling instructions to one another every so often.

Towards the center of the mess, I found Jack and Dixon. Jack was on the phone, scribbling notes about something as he spoke, his voice hushed so none of the casual passerby could overhear.

"What do we know?" I asked Dixon as I approached. I tried to keep my voice down so I wouldn't disturb Jack and whatever he was working on, but I wanted to alert him to my presence. Dixon glanced over at me, looking tired.

"Not a lot," he replied. "Marshall's got a team working with him – they're trying to get the person that hacked our network out and recover the archive data that was deleted." He glanced around the room at the loosely thrown together computer network around us. "So far they haven't made much progress." I nodded a little. "How's Sydney?"

"She's good," I replied, smiling a little. "So is our daughter, for that matter." Dixon smiled.

"Congratulations," he stated.

"Thanks." Jack hung up the phone, taking his notes as he stood and turned to face Dixon and I. "Was that Chase?"

"She said there was a code – a series of blocks, numbers and letters, that Gordon Dean ultimately wanted from you. Something from the original Prophet Five book that your father stole and copied into a journal," Jack stated, wasting no time with the pleasantries he'd shown a few hours ago.

"What about it?" I questioned, confused as to why this was so important all of a sudden. Chase hadn't been able to make much of the code before, so I figured it must have been pretty low-priority information.

"Did Dean have the chance to decipher the code, or pass it on to anyone else in his organization?" Jack asked.

"I don't think so, no. Sydney said APO caught him the day after I told him the sequence, so he probably didn't have the chance to pass it on. There's no way he would have been able to decode it, especially if he was trying to set up a meet to get this access card back," I explained. "Why?"

"Does the name 'A23X22L' mean anything to you?"

"Why? Is that the name Prophet Five was looking for – the one they were trying to get from Sydney?" I questioned. Jack nodded a little.

"Yes, we think so," he stated. "Have you ever heard that name before?" I thought for a long moment. The name sounded familiar from somewhere, though I couldn't quite piece it all together. I'd been given that name shortly after I started investigating Prophet Five, and told to write it down somewhere safe. Somewhere that Sydney might find it, but not realize that she'd even seen it…

"I got it from Renee," I finally remembered. "When she first came to me, talking about Prophet Five and my father's involvement, she gave me that name. Said it was written down in his journals somewhere if I needed proof that she was telling the truth, but I could never find it."

"The entire sequence needs to be run in a rather complicated order to get to the right name," Jack replied. "Chase had to run it by analysis several times before they got anything that made any sense at all."

"Why did Prophet Five assume Sydney would have that information?" Dixon asked, seeming confused as to the reasoning behind her abduction.

"Because I wrote the name on the SD-6 map that I showed Sydney a week after she became a double agent," I replied. "When Renee gave it to me, she told me to write it somewhere safe, put it on some random document that Sydney would see and not even realize it."

"Prophet Five knew you would have passed the information on to Sydney somehow, even subconsciously," Jack finished. I shook my head in disbelief. That was why Irina had the doctor giving her hallucinogens – she was trying to get the real name that the sequence led to.

"Okay, so we have the right name now, but do we even know what it is? Is it a location?" I questioned.

"We don't know yet. Because this is all highly classified, Chase can't run it through Langley. We have to wait until APO's network has been restored before we can do any research on what this name might be," Jack explained.

"Isn't that risky? What if Dean _did_ have the chance to pass the code on to the rest of Prophet Five?" Dixon asked.

"It's unlikely," Jack responded immediately. "For one, Dean wouldn't have passed that Intel on until he had control of Sloane as an asset and his access card was back in his possession. For another, if Prophet Five already had the code, there would be no reason for Irina to abduct Sydney and use regression to try and get the answer from her." Dixon nodded. "Once we have the network running, we'll start trying to figure out what this name means."

OOOOO

By that evening, Dixon had gone home to be with his children, and Marshall's 'network' disbanded for a few hours. Marshall insisted that they were, in fact, making progress. He'd closed whatever backdoor leak that caused the hack on our network, and now it was just a matter of trying to recover the lost data, if that was even a possibility. He seemed pretty sure that the hacker wasn't after any of the information on our server – the attack was simply to cripple our resources, slow us down a bit.

I kept trying to think back to the name Jack got from Chase. Obviously Renee got that name from somewhere – she was the one that told me to make sure Sydney saw it. I didn't know if she might know what it meant, but it seemed as good a place as any to start.

Sydney didn't particularly like the idea of me going back out into the field, especially now that Irina – who evidently ran Prophet Five – knew that I was still alive. Still, she gave me the number for the cell phone she'd given Renee several months ago, assuring me that I'd be able to contact her that way.

"Promise me you'll be careful," Sydney insisted. "Prophet Five was obviously tracking either me or her in Madrid, so try and get her to tell you something without a meet."

"I will," I said again. "But, you know the chances of that are pretty slim." She nodded a little.

"I know. Still," she stated. I smiled a little, kissing her forehead and gently kissing Isabelle as well, who was presently snuggled against her mother's chest, watching our conversation intently.

"I promise, it'll be fine," I assured her. "I love you."

"I love you." I kissed her again, exiting the room to try and find somewhere quiet where I'd be able to call Renee. Luckily, it was getting late and there weren't as many staff members wandering around, as there had been earlier in the day.

Just around the corner from the waiting room – which was now empty as Jack returned to APO with a tactical team to make sure no one broke into the office to try and steal any hardcopy data – there was a bank of payphones. Not far from them was a stairwell, which would take me to the ground floor and outside where I could safely use my cell phone.

I was about to turn the corner when I saw someone approach the payphones. He was walking briskly, and glanced over his shoulder as soon as he reached a phone to make sure the corridor was empty. As he looked around, I realized it was Sloane. I ducked back behind the corner, out of his line of sight, wondering what in the world he was doing. Once he seemed sure that he was alone, he turned to the payphones and dialed a number.

"It's me. I got your message," he said in a hushed tone after someone picked up on the other line. "You do realize that by kidnapping Sydney Bristow, you jeopardized our alliance. I specifically told you she was not to be harmed."

There was a pause as he waited for a response. It seemed that Sloane was talking to someone from Prophet Five. Evidently, he was still in contact with them, which wasn't that much of a surprise. The story of how he started working for Dean seemed like something Sloane would do, and they wouldn't just give up their asset inside APO.

"If you want that information, you're going to have to give me something I want first," Sloane snapped in reply. He turned a little, glancing off down the hallway again. I could see the angry look on his face as he argued with his contact. "And if you continue to blatantly disregard my rules in this, you'll get nothing further from me."

Again, there was a pause. I couldn't see his face from where I was, but I knew whoever was on the other end of the call had just proven that they were, in fact, in control of this situation by the way Sloane's shoulders sank and he leaned forward against the wall slightly.

"Fine. But I want your word that it ends there," he stated. "I'll have what you're looking for by morning." He hung up, turning and leaving the same way he came.

The name. He had to be looking for the name; whatever A23X22L meant that would lead Prophet Five to this artifact they were searching for. Obviously Jack hadn't told him yet, but the two of them would talk either later tonight or first thing in the morning to figure out the next move regarding APO. I had to make sure that Jack didn't give Sloane the real name.

I went down the stairwell and outside, hoping that the interference from whatever electronics were running in the hospital and the anti-trace technology in my phone would keep both the calls I had to make private. I called Jack first, wanting to inform him of Sloane's mysterious call.

"Yes?" he answered, his tone serious.

"Jack, it's Vaughn," I replied.

"What is it?" he questioned.

"I just saw Sloane inside the hospital using a payphone to call Prophet Five," I stated.

"Are you sure he was calling someone inside their organization?" he asked.

"Yeah, I'm sure. He said something about them kidnapping Sydney," I explained. "I think he's after the name from the code sequence. He told them he'd have it by morning."

"If he asks, I'll give him a fake," Jack replied. "Even if he's not still collaborating with Prophet Five, it's probably safest to keep this quiet until we know for sure what we're looking for."

"I agree," I said.

"Good. I'll talk to you in the morning." Jack hung up before I could say anything else. I figured he was probably busy trying to coordinate and control whatever was going on at APO, and we'd have the chance to discuss Sloane's duplicity more when things settled down again.

Next, I called the number Sydney told me would reach Renee.

"Hello?" she answered.

"It's me," I said.

"Michael," she replied, sounding surprised. "Last I knew, you were dead."

"Yeah. Gotta love a business that makes you seem immortal," I joked, though my tone wasn't entirely humorous. The entire mess I'd gotten myself into with Dean and Prophet Five still wasn't something I felt comfortable discussing. "I need your help."

"Of course," she said.

"Back when you first contacted me about Prophet Five, you gave me a name. You told me to write it down somewhere, somewhere safe that people like Sydney might see it but not even realize it was there," I explained.

"I remember. Was that what they wanted?" she asked.

"Yeah. What does that name mean? Is it a location, a person, what?"

"I don't know."

"Then where did you get it? The code sequence was in my father's journal, so you must have gotten it somewhere," I insisted.

"My father gave it to me right before they killed him," she shot back. I didn't reply right away, feeling bad for pressing her for an answer. "I thought it would be safer if I wasn't the only one who knew, so I gave it to you."

"I'm sorry," I replied.

"It's all right," she said after a moment. "Did Prophet Five get the name?"

"No, they didn't. Sydney made one up and escaped."

"She's safe?"

"Yeah."

"Good. I'm glad that you're all okay."

"Thanks." There was a pause.

"Listen, we should talk sometime. I've been investigating on my own, I might have found a few things that could help the CIA."

"All right. I'll give you a call in a few days."

"Okay." This time, I was the one that hung up first, sighing deeply and looking out into the night. Hopefully, Marshall could retrieve the data from APO's server, and whatever information Renee had might help us make some progress on taking Prophet Five down.


	18. Chapter 18

**Disclaimer: **same

**A/N: **Thanks for the reviews everyone! I know I've said this like a million times, but it really does make my day to know people are enjoying this story. I got some real interesting ideas for where to go from here, so I hope I can update more frequently for a bit. I had so much fun writing the last scene in this chapter - please let me know what you think!

OOOOO

Jack called the next morning to inform everyone that his team cleared APO. While a good portion of the archive was still inaccessible, at least everyone could get back into the office itself. Marshall didn't want anyone on the computers too much though, since he still wasn't sure how the hacker got in or if he or she might still be monitoring any of our computers.

I did see Marshall, briefly, when I first got there. He immediately rattled off a whole bunch of technical jargon that I didn't understand – something about bandwidth and a dual-processor LAN network – before saying that he looked forward to meeting Isabelle and then vanishing in the direction of his office.

There weren't many people back yet. I saw Jack, Marshall, the tech team from the hospital that was still attempting to recover the lost archive data, and a few other agents and analysts. The one person I _didn't _expect to see wandering around APO was Weiss.

"Hey, I've been looking for you," he said, sighing in relief as he approached.

"What happened to Washington?" I questioned.

"They'll get by without me," he replied nonchalantly, shrugging one shoulder a little. "I was worried about you guys. This whole Prophet Five thing, I figured maybe it'd be better if I came back for a while."

"We could use all the help we can get at this point," I stated.

"Yeah, Jack filled me in about the network. Do we have any idea who was behind that?" he questioned as the two of us started towards our desks, which were pretty close together on the floor.

"No. Did he tell you about Irina?" I asked.

"The Indian Ocean? Yeah, he mentioned that. Didn't say a whole lot, except that she was there and you said she hit you with something. How's your head?"

"It's definitely felt better, if that's what you mean," I replied with a grin. He nodded in agreement and grinned as well as we reached my desk. I took a seat, waiting for him to get his chair and pull it over beside my desk.

"And Syd? She's good?" he asked.

"She's great," I said, smiling in earnest now. "Frustrated that she has to stay at the hospital until this afternoon. She wants to keep working on this, too, you know?"

"Yeah. Are you going to pick her up later?"

"Yeah. Hopefully, Jack will let me out of here relatively on time to get her and Isabelle home and settled and everything." I sighed. "To tell you the truth, I kind of wish I was still at the hospital with them."

"I don't blame you," Weiss assured me. "Still, since we're here, we might as well try and get some work done. Where are we with Cho?"

"Well, Dixon and I planted a bunch of surveillance equipment all over his club, and Tom and Rachel covered his house pretty well. But, with the network down, there's no way for us to access any of the information from any of those bugs, if the data even survived the crash to begin with," I replied, shaking my head. "We've got a little hard-copy, but not enough to tell us anything."

"He's the only one we know about for sure? I mean, aside from Irina."

"Yeah, that's the only name we've got at this point. Dixon and I secured one of Dean's men in Shanghai, but I don't even know where he is at this point. I think Jack had him transferred out of APO after Sydney got captured."

"Do we know if he's talking?"

"I have no idea." I shook my head. I figured that, if Jack had anything to do with it, Carl would start talking before long. I wasn't sure if he'd have any information we could use, though.

"We should start there. Maybe he knows who took over Dean's cell once he died." Weiss smiled a little. "And, you know, I can't help but be glad that he's dead after this whole mess." I just nodded, but didn't say anything. "I mean, you know… Evil cell leader and all."

"I don't know," I replied, shaking my head. "I just wish no one had to be in this mess in the first place. I wish _I _hadn't gotten into this mess in the first place."

"Hey, someone's gotta keep the international spy trade on its toes," Weiss joked with a smile. "Come on, let's talk to Jack, see if he got anything out of this guy from China."

OOOOO

So far, whatever 'people' Jack had working on Carl had only managed to figure out that Peyton was in control of Dean's cell now. Jack mentioned that Carl suspected Peyton was the one that set Dean up, exposing his weakness to the higher members of Prophet Five in order to take over his cell. Apparently, he also said that was the reason he elected not to kill me. He wanted to screw with Peyton for screwing with Dean.

I didn't know if I believed that or not, but decided against sharing that opinion.

"Other than that, I'm afraid he knows very little," Jack continued. "His transfer to Cho's branch was authorized by a man he never saw or knew, and aside from his knowledge of Dean's organization before Peyton assumed control and what little he learned of Cho's, he's relatively worthless."

"Do you think Prophet Five orchestrated Dean's 'suicide' once he was in custody?" I asked. So far, neither Jack nor I had said anything to anyone else about Sloane's late-night phone call yesterday. While I knew there was a certain risk involved in doing that, we had to keep Sloane thinking he had APO fooled. Otherwise, he'd be unusable.

"It's possible," Jack confirmed, nodding a little in my direction as he spoke. He was agreeing with me that it seemed likely that Prophet Five had Sloane kill Dean before he could talk, and make it look like a suicide.

"We didn't get any information off Dean's access card at all?" Weiss asked, either oblivious to the silent communication between Jack and I or choosing to ignore it because he knew he wouldn't get an explanation anyway.

"All we learned was that there are twelve cell leaders, all highly-placed in world intelligence," Jack replied, shaking his head. "The card erased itself before we could get anything more from it."

"Figures," Weiss muttered under his breath. Before Jack could continue, the door swung open behind us and Sloane stepped into the room.

"Jack, sorry I'm late," he started.

"It's all right," Jack replied. "Vaughn and I were just bringing Agent Weiss up to speed." Sloane nodded a little.

"What did Chase say when you spoke to her last night? Did she decode the document?" Sloane questioned. I fought the urge to look over at Jack, knowing that Sloane was an expert at reading body language and would catch on in a heartbeat if he noticed anything suspicious.

"She did," Jack replied, not missing a beat. "So far, analysis at Langley has only come up with a name – LK4892C. They don't know what it means yet." Sloane nodded a little, probably memorizing that name to pass on to his Prophet Five contact as soon as he left APO.

"Maybe this Carl guy would know how to decode the name?" Weiss asked.

"It's worth a try," Jack said with a nod. "I'll contact the team holding him – try and find out if we can get anything that way. Until then, we should focus our efforts on Cho for the time being. Marshall's informed me he should have the network running by this afternoon; tomorrow at the latest."

"Good," Sloane threw in.

"We'll get back to work on Cho," Weiss said. He exited the room, Sloane following after a moment. Finally, I looked over at Jack. He just nodded a little, as if to say 'you were right' before circling around his desk and taking a seat.

"Is there any way we can decode the name without the network?" I asked.

"Doubtful," he replied. "At this point, it could be a person, a location, it could be in a cipher-text we don't know… Without our resources, there's not much we can do right now."

"All right," I said with a nod. "I'll go help Weiss with Cho's files."

I returned to my desk. I hadn't even gotten Cho's file open before the phone rang. I figured it was probably Sydney, calling from the hospital to make sure everything was going all right and tell me exactly what time to pick her up.

"Yeah?" I asked, picking it up on the second ring.

"Come to the corner of Santa Monica Boulevard and Third Street, alone." I froze. The voice on the other end belonged to Irina. "I'll give you one hour, and if you tell anyone where you're going you won't get the information you're looking for." She hung up before I could respond.

After a moment, I hung the phone up. Why the hell was Irina calling me and asking me to meet her somewhere? The most likely answer was that, now that she knew I was alive, she wanted to draw me out into the open somewhere and either have her people shoot me or just do it herself.

Still, why bother to call? Was that just some kind of a ploy to make me think maybe I could trust her? Or did she really intend to share information, and figure meeting with me would be the best way to go about it?

Obviously, Prophet Five knew the meaning behind the name they were searching for. It wouldn't be long before they discovered the name Sloane passed along was a fake, and started coming after Renee or me or Sydney to try and get the _real _name. We wouldn't have the resources to look for any kind of an answer until late tonight or tomorrow, at best, and even then there was no guarantee we'd figure it out even then.

Irina's alliances were impossible to determine or even keep track of most of the time. Still, there were certain things about her character that I knew I could count on. One, if she said she wanted a meet, she wanted a meet. If she expected me to come alone, she wasn't going to break her own rules by having backup.

Finally, I knew that – even if she didn't particularly value or care about me – she cared about Sydney. She knew killing me, at this point, would turn her daughter against her forever. And I was just going to have to count on the fact that that still meant something to her.

OOOOO

Weiss assured me that he was fine going through Cho's files with Rachel's help, and told me I should go back to the hospital and be with Sydney and our daughter. I didn't mention the call to him or Jack on my way out, heading for the busy Santa Monica Third Street Promenade where Irina wanted me to meet her.

Despite being the middle of the week, there were still a lot of people walking around on the Promenade. It wasn't too hot out, and there were vendors scattered everywhere outside the actual shops, trying to attract the attention of the tourists passing by.

It didn't take me long to find Irina. There was a café on the Eastern side of the Promenade with a large outdoor patio seating area. Despite the flood of customers the lunch rush attracted to the café, Irina still stood out. It wasn't so much the way she was dressed – in black slacks and a sleeveless gray tank top with a matching shawl of sorts draped over her shoulders, eyes hidden behind dark sunglasses – because the entire Promenade was a mix of everything from laid-back beachcomber apparel to uptown Santa Monica business casual.

I figured it was just her overall presence that made her stand out in a crowd.

I approached slowly, leaving my hands in the pockets of my lightweight coat, left hand locked on the gun I made sure to bring with me, just in case my predictions about Irina's intentions were completely misguided.

"Agent Vaughn," she greeted in a quiet voice, nodding a little as I approached the table. "Please, have a seat. I've taken the liberty of ordering something, I hope you don't mind."

"I'm not hungry, but thanks," I replied as I sat down across from her.

"Of course," she said, nodding politely again. Despite the relaxed atmosphere the café and the Promenade tried to give off, the tension around the two of us was almost tangible. "Straight to business, then."

"Why did you call me here?" I questioned immediately, although I already had a pretty good idea of what she wanted.

"You have something I want and I have something you want," she replied, shrugging a little. "I want to know where The Horizon is, and I'll tell you what you want to know in exchange."

"And I'm just supposed to believe you?" I questioned.

"I think you know the risk of giving me false information, just as I wouldn't think of double-crossing you," she replied. "But, you're obviously interested. You came all this way, didn't you?"

"Why call me? Why not talk to Jack?" I asked.

"Because you already know what Prophet Five is capable of," she answered with a smile. "You were the only one I could trust to keep this quiet, despite the concern I'm sure you felt that this was just my way of getting you out into the open to kill you."

I didn't reply. I was really beginning to hate trying to negotiate with people like Irina or Jack or Sloane. They were far too good at what they did. Even when I thought I got two steps ahead for once, people like them always proved that they were still the ones calling the shots.

"As I'm sure you've realized, the only purpose of this meeting is to share information and go our separate ways," she finally said. She leaned forward onto the table, pushing the glasses up onto her forehead and pulling her brown hair back away from her face in the process. "I know you have the name."

"Tell me what it is first," I stated. "What is The Horizon? Why are your people so hell-bent on finding it all of a sudden?"

"It's a device," she answered. "State-of-the-art, more complex than any preconceived modern technology we've seen. So far, no one knows the true extent of what it may be capable of, but we do know it can form, based on an individual blood sample, the cure to any disease or affliction."

"Rambaldi's answer to immortality," I stated simply. One corner of her mouth turned up a little in a smile, but she didn't confirm or deny Rambaldi's involvement in all this.

"This device could be one of the most important scientific finds of this century," she continued after a moment. "Imagine, having the cure to cancer or AIDS – a cure for old age itself."

"Don't try and twist this into some noble pursuit of knowledge," I snapped. "It's not like your organization is gonna turn the thing over to the proper authorities."

"This kind of power has no master," Irina replied, shaking her head seriously. "And you're right – turning it over to the CIA so it could be locked up and studied is out of the question."

"But letting men like Gordon Dean or Eherman have it, that's perfectly acceptable," I shot back.

"I am just trying to save my daughter's life," she hissed, eyes narrowing in her anger when I interrupted her a second time. She relaxed after a moment, sitting back in her seat again.

"You want to use it to cure Nadia," I finally realized.

"This device is the only thing that will save her from what my sister did to her in Sovogda," she said flatly.

"Then why all of this? Why assemble Prophet Five, why spend thirty years constructing your own vigilante government, if all you were after was this artifact?"

"I'm sorry," she said, shaking her head. "But that information was not part of our deal. Now, I've told you what you wanted to know. I need the name from you."

"Tell me how to decode it. We'll find the device, we can cure Nadia and not let this thing fall into the wrong hands."

"I can't do that." I sighed, shaking my head a little. Even if Irina was telling the truth, and all she wanted was to use The Horizon to save Nadia, the rest of the people involved in Prophet Five could use this thing any way they wanted. Unleash bio-terrorism all over the world and cure your own people if they got sick, keep their leaders alive for who knew how long – the possibilities were as endless as they were terrifying.

"I'm not handing this over to your organization so they can unleash hell on earth," I stated finally, shaking my head.

"I advise you against this, but if you truly intend not to cooperate, let me know now so my friend doesn't have to wait any longer," she said, lilting her head to the side. I glanced over in the direction she indicated, catching the brief flash of the sun reflecting off a sniper scope on the roof of the building across from the café.

I swore under my breath, shaking my head in disbelief. I cursed myself for being such an idiot and thinking that I might be able to get out of this without compromising any of our Intel, and for even coming to meet with Irina in the first place.

"Also, since we've already been misinformed twice, my associate there will check the validity of your Intel before allowing you to leave this spot. If it turns out you've lied to us, the consequences will be immediate as well as severe," Irina continued, her voice completely serious. I shook my head again, looking over at her after a moment.

"Promise me one thing," I stated. "When you get a hold of this thing, you use it to cure Nadia, and that's it. It stops there."

"Or?"

"Or else I pull the Beretta out of my jacket and your guy shoots me in the head." She looked at me seriously for a long moment, probably trying to determine if I was bluffing. I wasn't. Crazy? Sure. _Stupid_? Definitely. But handing her that information without knowing that she wasn't going to hand it over to Eherman or someone to do what they wanted could mean countless other lives would be destroyed. I wasn't going to be the one to let her do that.

"Very well," she replied. "Your terms are acceptable. The device will be rendered useless once Nadia is safe."

"I have your word on that?" She smiled.

"You trust my word?"

"I trust that when you're considering the lives of your daughters, and your granddaughter, that you're going to be a bit more careful with who gets their hands on your toys," I replied.

That threw her. She obviously hadn't known about Sydney going into labor on the ship. She recovered quickly, but that fraction of a second was all I needed. She nodded slowly.

"You have my word."


	19. Chapter 19

**Disclaimer: **see previous

**A/N: **Okay, everyone. I am SO SORRY. I know it's been like five months since the last update of this story, and I apologize. I won't sit here and list off all my excuses. The muse is finally back, and I hope to finish this story within the next couple of weeks at the MOST. Again, I am SO sorry it's been so long since I updated. Here's chapter 19 - please review!

OOOOO

"Are you _insane_?" I opened my mouth to refute Jack's accusation, but didn't get the chance to actually say anything. "You're telling me you just _handed _Irina Derevko The Horizon."

"What other choice did I _have_?" I replied, raising my voice to match his tone. The two of us were alone in his office, and thankfully the door was closed. "It was only a matter of time before she came looking for it, and you know she would have gotten it eventually anyway."

"There is no way to be certain of that," Jack snapped.

"You _know _that's not true!" I shouted back.

"Regardless, she has it now and we are left with nothing," he said, lowering his voice now that his outburst had run its course. I could still see the anger in his eyes, but for the most part, he was back to his usual stoic self. "Going to meet with her without informing anyone in this office was not only another example of your bad judgment, but also irrational and foolish."

"_My_ bad judgment? What the hell is that supposed to mean?" I questioned.

"Have you considered the implications of this? The consequences, how many people's lives you could have destroyed by doing this?"

"Have you considered whose lives she would have destroyed if she _did _come after it?" I shot back. "The people in this office she could have killed? _Sydney_?" Jack's eyes flashed at that, but the emotion was gone too quickly for me to determine whether it was anger or concern.

"Agent Vaughn, you are aware of the protocol in this office," he stated, choosing not to respond to my statement. "You willingly ignored that, and handed what could be a very dangerous artifact over to a _known_ terrorist.

"Now that we know Irina is involved in Prophet Five, we know they know their attempts to silence you were unsuccessful," he continued. "There's no way to know when or if they will try again, and now Irina knows she herself can exploit you."

"What are you saying?" I asked, even though I already had a pretty good idea where Jack was going with this.

"I'm saying that, until further notice, I'm removing you from active duty. I don't want you on this case, or in this office, until we've resolved the situation with Prophet Five," Jack stated.

"Wait, you're not just taking me off field duty?"

"That was my first inclination, especially after Irina herself saw you in the Indian Ocean. However, after this, I am concerned about your lack of objectivity in this investigation. I think the best move, for everyone's sake at this point, would be for you to remove yourself completely from this agency."

"Jack, you can't ask me to just walk away – not now!"

"Push me, and I'll run it through Langley. I'll call Director Chase right now," he stated. I knew he wasn't bluffing – it was very rare for Jack Bristow to make a threat that he didn't fully intend to back up. I sighed, shaking my head in disbelief. "We're through here."

OOOOO

I didn't tell Sydney about my argument with her father until she'd been checked out of the hospital, and we were back at her place. Isabelle was asleep, finally, and even though I was sure Sydney was exhausted, she insisted that she wanted to know what had happened.

I told her about meeting with her mother, and giving her the code for the location of The Horizon. Then I explained Jack's less-than-favorable reaction to the news, and how I apparently wasn't allowed back in APO until this mess was over.

"I mean, is it your dad's mission in life to drive me crazy?" I asked, sinking down beside her on the couch. "Just when I feel like we're starting to get somewhere, like we might actually be able to find some _answers_, he throws me out of the office."

"He's just worried about you, that's all," Sydney replied, tucking her legs up under her and running one hand through my hair. I just shook my head.

"I doubt that," I stated.

"He is," she assured me. "He just… Has a weird way of showing that kind of thing, that's all." I laughed a little at that, smiling for the first time since that morning. "Besides, I'm on leave for the next couple of months anyway. Maybe this is a good thing – we can spend some time together _away _from work."

"Yeah, that'd be nice," I agreed. She smiled, leaning in and kissing me. When she pulled away, she leaned her head over on my shoulder, yawning tiredly.

"Once I get some sleep, that is," she joked.

"Yeah, you might want to take advantage of that while you can," I said, nodding towards the nursery. The nurse at the hospital had suggested that Isabelle might be a little put-off by the new surroundings when we finally got her home. What she _didn't _mention was that she would be up crying for the better part of an hour.

"I know," Sydney said with a sigh. "All right. I'll get up in a minute."

Sydney almost fell asleep on the couch, and it took me a few minutes to convince her to just go to bed. I curled up with her, watching her sleep for a while, but eventually I got restless. Despite her claims that Jack's actions were out of some desire to protect me from Irina and Prophet Five, I still couldn't help being angry with him. I'd been investigating this for so long, and even though I knew it was dangerous, I didn't want to be told to give up when we were _finally _getting close.

I found myself wandering into the nursery. There were still a couple of piles of things – gifts from friends, I imagined – sitting in one corner, but we'd gotten a lot of work done in the past few weeks. Everything was actually somewhat organized, which I think surprised both of us.

Isabelle was still sleeping peacefully, head lolled slightly to one side to allow her to stick her thumb in her mouth. I smiled at the corner of the crib with the dings in it, wishing I'd been here to see Jack trying to fit it through the door.

I reached down into the crib, gently running my fingers across her forehead. She had a little tuft of light-brown hair on her head, which was currently sticking straight up in the air.

For a long moment, I just watched her. She seemed so innocent and helpless. I knew that, once we resolved everything with Prophet Five, Sydney would want to quit the agency. I couldn't blame her – after everything that had happened, it was starting to seem like a really good idea. Maybe we would _both _quit. Go somewhere away from Los Angeles, somewhere on the beach, somewhere quiet.

I shook myself out of my thoughts when I felt Isabelle move. She was still sound asleep, but she'd moved one arm over her chest, reaching for my hand. I smiled a little, reaching over and wrapping her tiny fingers in mine.

_I'll keep you safe from this life_, I told her silently. _I promise._

OOOOO

**ONE MONTH LATER**

Sydney was right, as usual. It had been nice to get away from work for a while – to just spend time as an actual family. Jack called and stopped by a lot, usually to drop off some things of Sydney's he found from when she was a baby. For the most part, no one talked about work. Jack did mention that, after meeting with me and getting the name that would lead to The Horizon, Irina had disappeared completely. No one had heard from or seen her since that day in Santa Monica.

I was beginning to wonder if what she told me was true. About The Horizon being able to formulate some sort of a cure for Nadia. Sydney had been to visit her sister a couple of times, and there was no change in her condition.

I tried not to think about Prophet Five. I talked to Weiss on and off, and apparently he and Rachel still didn't have anything we could use from the cameras we planted around Cho's house and his club. He was heading back to Washington in a couple of days, saying that he still had his 'other job' to do.

Weiss had just gotten off the phone when Jack came in. I nodded hello, not wanting to make much noise as Sydney was just putting Isabelle to sleep. He nodded a greeting as well, carrying a couple of grocery bags into the kitchen. I turned to hang up the phone, startled when there was a loud crashing sound from the kitchen.

I looked over, seeing that Jack had knocked the knife block off the counter, sending the sharp cooking knives all clattering to the floor. Sydney immediately came out of the nursery, glancing to me and then looking at her father.

"Dad! Shh, what are you doing?" she asked, keeping her voice down and glancing back into the nursery to make sure the noise didn't startle Isabelle.

"I knocked them over when I was trying to put these in the cupboard," Jack replied. "Sydney, you do not leave edged weapons within the reach of children!"

"She's four weeks old, Dad," Sydney stated.

"Particularly young Bristow women," Jack added.

"She can't even hold her head up. I think we're safe," Sydney replied. Jack sighed, shaking his head and putting the rest of the knives away. I came over to the kitchen as well.

"Do you want me to check on her?" I asked Sydney.

"No, I think she's fine. I don't hear her crying, so maybe the noise didn't bother her." She sighed, shaking her head again and looking back at her father. "Have you contacted your field sources?"

"Nobody's heard so much as a whisper since Irina disappeared," he replied.

"We should task Echelon with her known aliases," Sydney suggested.

"We already have," he stated. "Rest assured, we've engaged our full resources in looking for your mother."

"Any news on Prophet Five?"

"No significant activity in the last few weeks."

"I don't like it," Sydney continued, shaking her head. "Mom dealt Prophet Five a significant blow. She got to The Horizon first, and she didn't hand it over to them. If we aren't picking up activity, it's only because they're… Regrouping, coming up with an alternate plan."

"Sydney… Try to enjoy your time away. Right now, you only need to concern yourself with being a moment. As soon as the affairs of the world require your attention, I'll let you know." Before Sydney could say anything more, a short cry came from the nursery.

"I'll go," Sydney said, smiling at me a little before disappearing again. I turned my attention to Jack.

"What about Sloane?" I questioned. So far, there hadn't been any other signs of his involvement with Prophet Five. Jack explained to me that he figured it was best we kept this between us. There was no need to involve the rest of APO, as that might make Sloane suspicious.

"Nothing," he said, shaking his head. "He's using the downtime to continue pursuing a cure for Nadia."

"Jack, he could be getting the cure _from _Prophet Five," I said quietly.

"His actions these last several weeks don't give away anything suspicious," he replied. "Aside from what you said you witnessed at the hospital, there are _no _indications that he's still in contact with Prophet Five."

"Are you saying you don't believe me?" I questioned.

"Not at all," he answered quickly. "I made the mistake of trusting Sloane blindly once, and it is a mistake I will _never _repeat. I believe there is a chance he is still working for Prophet Five, but until we know for certain, we have nothing to move on." I nodded my understanding. "I'll call later in the week. The two of you should… Enjoy your time off."

OOOOO

Jack called a couple of days later, asking to speak with Sydney. She was in the nursery, reading to Isabelle. I took our daughter, letting Sydney go into the other room to take Jack's phone call.

Truthfully, it bothered me that he was unwilling to do anything about Sloane. I understood that, if he really _was _still working with Prophet Five – which we didn't actually have solid proof of – Jack didn't want Sloane to catch on that we might know. It was a tricky situation. One that I wished I wasn't used to playing.

Sydney came back a few moments later, looking considerably distressed. She said she had to go into APO. That she'd be back in a little while, and then disappeared off into the bedroom. Still carrying Isabelle, who was beginning to look around frantically at the sudden change of emotion in the household, I followed her.

"What do you mean, you have to go in? What's going on?" I questioned.

"Prophet Five infiltrated one of the agency-operated supermax prisons," she began. "They broke Anna Espinosa out of custody."

"What?" I asked, surprised. "Why is Prophet Five after Anna?"

"I don't know," she replied, ducking into her closet to look for something better than her old UCLA sweatshirt to wear into the office. "But APO got a call from WITSEC this morning. Anna was spotted last night – in Wisconsin."

"Wisconsin?" I questioned, the reference lost on me.

"She was after Will," Sydney replied, emerging from the closet again in a more professional-looking black shirt.

"Why?" I asked.

"I don't know, but according to my father, she kidnapped him last night. I have to go in and look at the surveillance footage, see what's being done. Maybe there's something I can do to help – something I might notice that no one else would," she explained, continuing into the bathroom and brushing her hair out.

"Yeah, okay," I said with a nod.

"I won't be gone long. An hour at the _most_," she replied, turning around and seeming to notice that I was still carrying Isabelle, who was watching her mother intently. She smiled a little, stepping close and kissing our daughter on the forehead. "You two will be all right while I'm gone?"

"Yeah, it'll be fine," I assured her, following her into the living room. She grabbed her jacket and her keys. "Syd?" She turned around, looking at me in question. "I'm sure Will's all right." She smiled a little.

"Thanks," she said. She came back, kissing me briefly. "Love you."

"Love you." She waved goodbye to Isabelle, disappearing out the door.


	20. Chapter 20

**Disclaimer: **same

**A/N: **Thanks to everyone that reviewed! Good to know people are still reading this after my extended absence! Please continue to let me know what you think, and enjoy chapter 20!

OOOOO

Sydney was gone for about fifteen minutes when the phone rang again. I tried to grab it quickly after putting Isabelle down for her nap, but heard her start crying just seconds after I picked up the phone.

"Hello?" I said, wedging the cordless between my ear and my shoulder and going back into the nursery.

"Hey, it's me," Weiss said. "You busy?" he asked, obviously hearing the crying infant through the phone. I picked her up, again, and she quieted down, grasping at my shoulder.

"No, the phone just woke the baby. What's up?" I questioned.

"Sorry," he said. "I tried your cell first, but it went straight to voicemail."

"Yeah, the battery's toast."

"Right. Anyway, Rachel's got something on Cho. We recorded a meeting between him and two other guys – looks like they might all be Prophet Five."

"Really?" I asked, intrigued now.

"Yeah. We took some shots and blew 'em up, Marshall's running them through the archives now. If we get any hits, we might try and go plant some surveillance around these guys, too."

"Jack doesn't want me involved in any of this," I said after a moment.

"I know, but he's caught up with this whole thing with Anna right now," Weiss replied. "Besides, he's calmed down, right? He should at least let you in here to take a look at this stuff, even if he won't let you out in the field."

"Yeah, hopefully," I replied.

"Listen, I know Syd's on her way here. I wouldn't have called, but my plane leaves in, like, an hour."

"I can't get there until she gets back," I replied. "I can't leave Isabelle and she's got the car seat in hers."

"No, that's cool," Weiss said. "I'll leave everything on your desk – you can look at it tomorrow or whenever."

"Okay, thanks."

"Sure. Wish I could help, but…"

"I know, I know," I said with a grin. "Terrorists, off the front lawn."

"Damn straight," he replied. "I gotta go – I gotta make my plane."

"All right. Hey, I'll talk to you in a few days, all right?"

"Okay. Later."

OOOOO

To my surprise, when Sydney returned from APO, she told me she had to pack.

"Pack? Why?" I asked, confused. Isabelle was finally asleep again, and I'd even gone as far as to turn the phone off so it wouldn't disturb her again.

"There's a meet in Moscow," she replied. The two of us were sitting on the couch in the living room, after a good deal of persuasion on my part to get her to stop running around the apartment for a minute. "Apparently, some other group is after Will – Anna's selling him off, like he's weapons plans or something."

"And your father asked you to cut your leave short and go there yourself?" I asked, already knowing the answer. She sighed, shaking her head and looking away.

"I volunteered," she answered. "It's _Will_. I can't _not_ go."

"All right. When do we leave?" I asked. She paused, biting the inside of her cheek. I recognized the tell immediately – she always did that when she was about to say something she didn't want to say.

"I'm going with Dixon and Rachel and Tom," she finally replied. "I asked my father, and he still thinks – even with my mother out of the picture – that it's too much of a risk for you to be in the field."

"That's ridiculous," I stated.

"I don't disagree with him," she admitted. I looked at her in surprise. "Don't get me wrong, Vaughn, it's not that I don't want you there – I _do_. But…" She sighed, shaking her head, sadness creeping into her features. "I thought I saw them kill you once. I don't want to go through that again."

I softened at that, realizing that that thought had never even occurred to me. I was so focused on trying to help her, on being right by her side through all of this, that I forgot to consider things from her point of view.

"I'm sorry," I said quietly.

"Don't be," she said, smiling again. "But, I do have to go." I nodded, and she went to get up off the couch.

"Wait," I said suddenly. "Weiss called earlier – he said he and Rachel finally got something off the surveillance we put at Cho's club. Pictures of a couple of other people, he thinks they might be more of Prophet Five's assets."

"Was he going to bring them here?" she asked.

"No, he left them at APO. He had to catch a plane back to Washington," I explained.

"Okay," Sydney said with a nod. "My father said something about babysitters – I can call him and ask if they can come over."

"Are you sure?" I asked her.

"Yeah," she said with a nod. "I mean, I hate the idea of leaving her, but…"

"I know," I assured her. "I won't be gone that long, I mean your dad isn't going to let me do anything anyway." She smiled a little at that, and I could see her giving me her 'don't start _that _again' look.

"Okay," she said after a moment. "I'll call my dad."

OOOOO

I wasn't entirely comfortable with leaving our daughter with a couple of strangers either, but just like I knew Sydney had to go to Moscow, I had to get a look at these photos. I realized, on the way down there, just how much this impromptu 'vacation' was driving me crazy. After all the time I'd put into this investigation – _my _investigation, as far as I was concerned – I needed to know the final outcome.

Rachel greeted me when I got back to APO, handing me the file of everything she and Weiss had managed to record before excusing herself to go get ready for the mission to Moscow.

I sat down at my desk, finding the two photos of the other men from the club. I didn't recognize either one of them, but supposed that shouldn't have been a real surprise. Marshall had attached a note to one of them, saying that neither image appeared anywhere in the archives.

_Why are _all _of these guys impossible to track? _I wondered, flipping through some of the printed dialogue from the meeting. Just from glancing over the transcripts, I could tell there was a lot of interference and background noise, and the entire conversation seemed to be in code. There was a note in someone else's handwriting – Tom, I figured, by the slant of the letters and the size – that said a copy had been delivered to linguistics an hour ago for translation.

I called linguistics, asking them if they had anything yet. The woman I spoke to – Agent Schaffer – explained that, because of the interference, they'd only been able to partially decode the conversation. She told me what little they got – something about a code and some 'experiment', and needing a medication of some kind. Other than that, they didn't have anything.

"It was possible that someone in the room had a bug-killer, maybe something on a burst-transmitter, and that's what caused the interference on the mic," she explained.

"Right," I said with a nod. "Well, thanks anyway."

"Sure," she replied before hanging up.

"Hey." I looked up, seeing Marshall approach from the direction of his office. "Sorry, we didn't really get much from the recordings."

"How can we get nothing from all of that equipment?" I questioned, shaking my head in disbelief. "We have _no_ idea who these guys are?"

"Nope," Marshall said, shaking his head. "I even sent the photos to Chase to run through Langley's archives, in case ours were still missing pieces from the hack," he replied with a sigh, leaning on the desk in front of mine and folding his arms across his chest. "They're ghosts. All of them."

"There has to be something we can do," I insisted.

"Well, we're still running surveillance on Cho. If something else comes up…"

"Linguistics said there was something about an experiment and needing some type of medication," I continued. "We didn't get a name or anything?"

"No," Marshall replied. "I tried to clean up the feed, but these guys are pretty paranoid – the only thing I could get was '-ium', which doesn't help us much at all. I mean, according to the FDA database, there are over three thousand known medications that end in that suffix."

I sighed, nodding and looking back down at the file. _There has to be _something_…_

OOOOO

Sydney called me later that afternoon from the plane. She said the mission in Moscow went well, and that Will was with her and safe. Apparently, Jack wanted him to stay at a safe house for the night, just in case someone was after him to get to her.

"They didn't interrogate him?" I asked. The 'babysitters' were still at the house, insisting that they could handle Isabelle while I was on the phone. To my surprise, Jack's idea of babysitters consisted of two specially trained agents, both possessing more knowledge of child development and care than I thought possible. Apparently, the first thing they did when they got to the apartment was baby-proof everything, which included installing surveillance cameras and 'explosive sniffers'.

"No," Sydney replied sounding tired. "I guess Anna grabbed him and they were just holding him. He hadn't even seen her since last night, until she came bursting into the room after me."

"And you're both all right?" I asked again.

"Yeah," she said, laughing a little. "Will's actually been taking Krav Maga – he's the one that fought Anna off."

"Seriously?" I asked.

"Yeah," she replied. "It was great – he's so proud of himself." She paused for a moment. "How's Isabelle?"

"She's good," I answered. "She seems to get along with your dad's 'babysitters' pretty well."

"I know – they're not exactly conventional, are they?"

"Uh, that's one way to put it, I guess," I said with a laugh, glancing back into the nursery. Agent Rantz was displaying some sort of chart on the wall, and though I couldn't read what it said from the other side of the living room, it looked somewhat complicated.

"I'll be home in a while, okay?"

"All right. Love you."

"You too. Bye."

OOOOO

That evening, Sydney brought Will back to the apartment. Despite Jack's concerns, she really wanted him to get the chance to meet Isabelle before dropping him off at the safe house. Besides, I figured it would be kind of nice for the three of us to catch up a little. I hadn't seen Will in years – the last time we talked was before we found out that Francie had been doubled using Project Helix, and he was the one to discover Allison Doren's real identity.

She mentioned they'd stopped by APO earlier, mostly so she could talk to her dad about why Prophet Five might have grabbed Will. We were all thinking along the same lines – that maybe they went after him as a way to get to Sydney. The question was; what did they want from her now?

We talked for a while, and Sydney went to introduce Will to Isabelle. I stayed in the living room for the moment. I'd brought some of the material that Rachel and Weiss found home from APO, and sent the two photos to Renee. I figured that, if Jack was still adamant about keeping me out of the field, I could at least get her to help me. She wasn't with APO, so she wasn't bound by the rules like the rest of us. I kind of envied that about her.

She hadn't gotten back to me yet, which I kind of expected. Being a criminal, and on the CIA's most wanted list, she didn't exactly seek out anything that could get her noticed. It could be a few days, at most, before I knew whether or not she recognized either of the men meeting with Cho.

"All right, the perimeter is online," Agent Rantz said to his partner, whose name I couldn't remember for the life of me.

"Good. Surveillance is up, I'll enable the sniffers now," he replied, turning his attention to one of the many monitors they'd spread out all over the kitchen counter. I'd tried telling them that all of this surveillance probably wasn't necessary, but Rantz had given me the standard reply of 'wanting to provide the best, most thorough protection available' and so on. Considering we still didn't know what Prophet Five was up to yet, and the fact that now Will was here as well, I decided maybe it wasn't such a bad thing.

"Good," Agent Rantz replied. He went over to the nursery, probably asking Sydney if she needed anything else before they left for the evening. I sighed, setting the surveillance photos down on the coffee table and rubbing my eyes tiredly.

I was beginning to wonder if we were ever going to get any answers about Prophet Five. According to Sydney, Jack mentioned something about how odd it was that they recruited Anna. They'd been low profile for thirty years, and then they go and recruit a terrorist who is known _everywhere_? It didn't make a lot of sense, and I was starting to wonder what they stood to gain through Anna's involvement. Why would their MO change all of a sudden?

Of course, there was only one answer. They were closing in on their endgame.

Suddenly, the alarms began blaring. I looked up, seeing Rantz look at the computer monitors. He said something about explosives and drew his gun, heading to the nursery. Not entirely sure what they were doing, I shot to my feet and followed them.

"Sir, hand over the baby." I followed Rantz's partner into the nursery, seeing that they had their guns pointed at Will, who was currently holding Isabelle.

"What?" Will asked, looking confused.

"Agent Rantz-" Sydney protested, only to get interrupted.

"Ma'am, take the baby from him right now," Agent Rantz continued.

"Okay, okay," Will said, handing Sydney the baby and backing up. Rantz approached quickly and pushed Will up against the wall, taking a device from his partner and beginning to run it over Will's body like a metal detector wand. "Hey, take it easy!"

Sydney glanced over at me, using one hand to try and shield Isabelle from the harsh sound of the alarm. I shook my head and shrugged, communicating that I was just as confused as everyone else.

"Sydney, what's going on?" Will asked, sounding frightened.

"I don't know," Sydney replied. Rantz ran the wand up towards the back of Will's head. I knew they were looking for some kind of explosive, but why…

I didn't get the chance to finish my thought as the small device began beeping.


	21. Chapter 21

**Disclaimer: **same

**A/N: **Yay! Another chapter! Thanks for the reviews! I appreciate your feedback, and enjoy!

OOOOO

Sydney, Will and I went to APO and discovered, much to Will's dismay, that there was a small explosive charge in the back of his head. Before anyone could suggest strategies for getting it out, a cell phone that had been planted in Will's pocket started ringing. Naturally, it was Anna. Sydney relayed that she had asked a ransom for Will.

Rambaldi's infamous Page 47.

Dixon got the page from the DSR in about forty-five minutes, knowing there wasn't time to lose. Anna demanded that Sydney meet her on a train from Lisbon to Madrid, and hand the page over there.

Sloane explained to Rachel and Tom who Rambaldi was, as they had no idea. Rachel seemed surprised that everyone else in the room seemed to believe that the prophecy written on the page actually held some weight.

After all of that, it was determined that Marshall might be able to defuse the bomb remotely, if the bomb was put in range of the detonator. So, Will and Sydney were going to Lisbon.

I followed Jack into the break room. I knew it was a risk, but I also knew firsthand how dangerous Anna Espinosa was. It wasn't that I didn't trust Will's ability, but I would feel better knowing Sydney had more back up.

"I've told you before," Jack explained calmly. "We can't risk putting you in the field, especially on something like this. Anna is working for Prophet Five – there's a chance she may have orders to kill you if she sees you."

"Then she won't see me," I shot back. He gave me a sarcastic 'yeah right' look. "Jack, I can't just sit around APO anymore – it's driving me insane."

"Insane is better than dead," he stated. "If your own life really means so little to you, perhaps you should consider the lives of Sydney and your daughter. Are you really willing to jeopardize them just because you're tired of sitting in an office?"

"Fine," I snapped. "But give me _something_, here. We aren't getting anywhere with this investigation, and continuing to give Prophet Five what they want is just going to make things worse."

"What are you suggesting?" Jack asked.

"We already know one of the main members of Prophet Five – one of the twelve. Yeong Cho," I started.

"And we got nothing from the surveillance on his club, or his home," Jack stated.

"So let's bring him in, or at least question him," I suggested. "Maybe we'll get somewhere."

"You know very well that he won't talk to anyone – not in person."

"He might talk to me." Jack looked at me for a long moment. "Look, I get that it's a risk, and maybe I am being cavalier about this whole thing, but do you have a better idea?"

For a moment, he didn't reply. I had a feeling he was going to tell me to give up, that there was no way I could track Cho and just expect him to talk to me. However, his pause did give me hope. Obviously, Cho wasn't just going to talk to anyone, and maybe seeing me face-to-face, someone that his organization thought they killed several months ago, would convince him to talk.

"We still can't be sure he'll give us any viable Intel," Jack replied.

"But he might," I stated.

"There is a chance, albeit a very small one, that he might give us something. However, the risks are extreme," he continued.

"I know," I said again.

"All right," he finally resigned. "Go after him, but do it quietly. We don't want the rest of Prophet Five knowing that we're onto him."

"Okay," I said, relieved that he was actually going to give in for once.

"You'll need someone to go with you – a partner, in case things go bad."

"I'll work it out."

OOOOO

Sydney and Will had already left for their plane by the time I was done talking to Jack. I figured that was better – I didn't want her to know what I was doing. She'd be furious, and find some way to stop me from going to China.

I knew it was risky. Hell, it was crazy to put myself out there like this and expect nothing to go wrong, but we couldn't keep letting them call the shots. That was how we would end up losing this battle.

I left APO, heading for one of the many airstrips I knew was under the CIA's control. Jack had called ahead and told the pilots to expect me, and that we were headed for Shanghai. Once I was on the plane, I called Renee.

"Hello?" she answered almost immediately.

"It's me – I need a favor," I replied.

"Of course," she answered, sensing the urgency in my tone.

"Our investigation into Prophet Five is at a standstill – they're one step ahead of us and we need some way to get the advantage back."

"Is this about what Sydney wanted?" she questioned suddenly.

"What do you mean?" I asked.

"She called me last night – she said that she might need some outside help in tracking someone that works for Prophet Five. That you couldn't do it because of her father," Renee explained.

"Yeah, actually, that's part of it," I replied, not really surprised that Sydney had been thinking the same thing I was thinking. If I couldn't go on missions and help her out, Renee might be able to. "But right now I need something else from you."

"What is it?"

"How soon can you get to Shanghai?"

OOOOO

Renee and I met up in China. She seemed glad to see me, and glad to know that everyone was all right. After all, the last time I'd talked to her was shortly after Sydney had been rescued after Prophet Five kidnapped her.

I explained what I could about Cho, saying that he was the only one we knew was actually a member of Prophet Five's core. I told her that Jack had finally given us permission to question him, as long as we could keep the rest of Prophet Five from finding out what we were up to.

"Do we know where he is?" she questioned, looking over the material I brought with me from LA. She'd hired a driver, and he was presently headed towards Cho's club.

"He's either at the nightclub or at his house," I replied. "According to the surveillance we put at his house, he just got back from some meeting in Barcelona."

"You didn't know about the meeting?" she asked, glancing up at me.

"No," I replied. "We just get bits and pieces from the bugs. So far, we haven't gotten anything substantial. Did you get my message and those two photos?"

"Yes, and I don't recognize either of the men in them," she replied, shaking her head and turning her attention back to the information on Cho. "Does his daughter work for him?"

"We don't know," I replied. "I don't think so – it didn't seem like it when I met with her." Renee nodded a little, eyes scanning the information.

"All right. We'll interrogate him, see if we can learn anything."

Cho's car was at the club. I figured that it would be too much of a risk to try and talk to him there, so we waited until he left later that evening. Luckily, he headed home. There were only a couple of guards posted there, and Renee took them both out easily with a tranq gun from across the street.

I let her lead the way into the house, trying to stay as out of sight as possible. It was interesting watching her in the field. Her training didn't seem all that different from Sydney's, but she used it in a completely different way. Renee's style wasn't quite as smooth – she was more aggressive and less stealthy. She picked the lock on the door, letting the two of us into the house. Cho was upstairs in his office, the light still on despite the hour. She led the way, drawing her gun again and stopping at the top of the stairs.

"Okay," she said quietly. "Ready?" I just nodded. She took a breath and swung out around the corner. "Don't move!" I followed her, seeing a very startled Yeong Cho at the other end of the room. He stood beside his desk, several papers in his hands. His sleeves were rolled up to his elbows, and he wore a pair of wire-rimmed glasses.

He immediately spouted something about taking whatever we wanted, just leaving him alone, in rapid-fire Chinese. Renee shot me a glance, obviously unable to translate his outburst.

"We're not robbing you," I replied in English. "We just want to ask you a few questions."

"Questions about what?" he asked in the same language this time, his voice heavily accented.

"Prophet Five," Renee replied. He seemed to realize what was happening now, glancing at me once more and then nodding. "We know you're involved – that you're one of the primary members."

"You were misinformed," he replied. "I run a cell for them, yes. But I am not one of The Twelve." He laughed a little at that, shaking his head.

"Who are they?" I questioned.

"I don't know," he said with a shrug, still smiling as if this whole thing was funny. I looked over at Renee, seeing that she obviously didn't believe him. She swore in French, shaking her head.

"If you don't start talking-" she started.

"You'll what?" Cho interrupted. "You'll torture me?" He shook his head, nodding to a cleverly concealed camera in the corner of the room. "They already know you're here – they're on the way right now to do the same thing. Why should I talk to you?"

"Then come with us – we can get you out of this," I suggested. He shook his head.

"You never get out of this. You should know that by now," he replied. He set the papers down on the desk, looking to the large bay window behind him. "There is only one way out once they come for you."

"Wait!" Renee shouted, seeing what he intended to do before I did. He used one elbow to shatter the window, and didn't even look back over his shoulder before he jumped.

OOOOO

"You didn't get anything from him?" Jack questioned. I was back home, finally relaxing after suffering the wrath of Sydney for not telling her about the mission to China. She and Will had gone out for a walk before he had to leave that evening. Even though the original reason he'd been put into the program was because of the Covenant, which didn't even exist anymore, it was still dangerous having him there now that Prophet Five knew he was one of Sydney's weaknesses.

I heard all about the mission in Lisbon. Sydney assured me that she was all right, and she had no idea what Anna sprayed her with in one of the train cars. It was a chemical agent of some kind, but it didn't seem to have any effect on her – MS had checked her out right after she got back. They'd managed to disarm the bomb in Will's head as well, but Anna got away with Page 47.

"No," I replied. "Just like Dean, he killed himself before we could learn anything. He wasn't even as highly placed as we thought – he claimed he didn't even know who The Twelve are."

"Which is quite possible," Jack replied with a sigh. "There were no complications?"

"No," I answered. "Sydney wasn't too happy with me."

"Did you expect her to be?" I didn't reply. "Either way, we knew it was a risk. We didn't come up with anything, and the chances we'll get away with something like that again are remote."

"Yeah, I know," I replied with a sigh. There was no way Jack was going to let me back into the field again, and I knew that. Still, I hated that I wasted my one chance to do something on a dead end. Cho was dead the second he hit the asphalt thirty feet below, having jumped out head-first.

"Either way, we will attempt to track Anna's movement. Obviously, Prophet Five wants Page 47 for something. She'll have to turn it over to them eventually, and when she does, we may be able to get another lead."

"All right." We hung up, and I went back to thinking. Sydney took Isabelle with her when she and Will left. She'd invited me along, but I insisted she should spend some time with Will before he had to leave. They'd been friends since before I even _met _Sydney, and I didn't want to intrude.

I didn't want to spend all my time puzzling over this, but there were still some things I couldn't quite make sense of. For one, what was that meeting about in Cho's club? Did this 'experiment' they referenced have anything to do with their sudden recruitment of Anna? What was Prophet Five even _after_? What was their endgame? Why did they want Page 47?

And what the hell had they sprayed Sydney with on that train?


	22. Chapter 22

**Disclaimer: **same

**A/N: **Thanks for the reviews - makes my day! I have a longer chapter this time, so... Enjoy!

OOOOO

As I expected, Jack didn't allow me to go with Sydney on her mission to Jaipur. Luckily, Renee was willing to step in and help Sydney out. I did hear that Anna was routing her calls through a computer-networking center there, and that it might give us some way to find her and see what she would do now that she had Page 47 in her possession.

I didn't really know why, but I felt more inclined to trust Renee on this than some of the others. I figured it was probably because she'd been in this with me since the beginning, and she knew more about how these people operated and what they were capable of. It wasn't that I didn't trust the people at APO. I just felt better with Renee on this.

Most of the surveillance equipment was still set up, but the 'babysitters' only stopped by when Sydney and I were both out of the house. I hadn't spent a lot of time at APO in the last week, mostly thanks to Jack. That, and we had no new leads on Prophet Five, aside from the attempts to track Anna, thanks to Cho's suicide. This whole thing reminded me of the Alliance more and more. First the twelve cell leaders, the fanatical allegiance that they required from the people that worked for them, and now this interest in Rambaldi's prophecy? If I didn't know any better, I would think it was the same people.

I spent a good deal of time when Sydney wasn't at home in or around the nursery, either playing with Isabelle or watching her sleep, or trying to feed her and enacting my own comedy of errors. I'd called Marshall more than once with questions, knowing that he'd already been through all of this with his son. That, and considering how his memory worked, he was a wealth of information on just about everything related to newborn care. And, despite his tendency to run on and change the subject six times in the middle of a sentence, he was still easier to talk to than Agent Rantz.

Isabelle and I had just finished a rather interesting game of 'let's see how many times we can grab at daddy's nose' before she drifted off to sleep. Her sleeping schedule was still anything but routine – sometimes she'd sleep for a few hours and wake up in the middle of the night, and sometimes when Sydney and I were expecting her to wake up, she'd stay asleep for another hour.

Still, she was one of the best things that ever happened to me. I almost felt like I didn't deserve to be so lucky, to have Sydney and now our daughter in my life. It almost made me believe in fate – after everything, we'd still ended up together.

I was leaning against the doorframe of the nursery when I heard the front door. I glanced back over my shoulder, smiling at Sydney. She waved hello, obviously realizing Isabelle was asleep and trying to be quiet. She wasn't so easily startled by the normal noises of the household now, which was nice, but every time she was just getting to sleep, Sydney would still creep around the house trying to make as little noise as possible.

"Hey," she said, smiling. She set her bags down by the kitchen counter, pointedly trying to ignore the computer monitors that still graced the area, and coming over to the doorway where I stood. "She's asleep?"

"Yep," I said in a hushed tone, nodding. "How'd it go in Jaipur?"

"Good," she replied. "Renee, she's… Got a talent for improvisation. We couldn't hack into the router using Marshall's tech so she burst in and faked a robbery. Pushed me on the ground right by the wi-fi access, so we should have something the next time Anna makes a call."

"That's good."

"Yeah." She sighed, smiling a little. "I told Renee she should join APO." I laughed a little at that.

"Did she laugh in your face?"

"Just about," Sydney replied, her smile growing wider at the memory. "She'd make a good agent." I just shrugged a little. "You don't think so?"

"It's not that," I replied. "I just can't see her listening to orders." Sydney nodded a little. "Then again, _you _don't listen to orders, and you make a great agent, so I guess it's possible."

"Hey!" she protested, pretending to be offended. She slapped me lightly on the shoulder, which made me laugh. Before she could say anything else, her phone started ringing. "God, I just _left_ – what does he want now?" she wondered aloud, obviously figuring it was her father calling. She went back to the counter, pulling it out of her purse and answering. "Hello?" She paused, listening for the reply on the other end. "Yeah, okay. We'll be right in." She hung up.

"What's going on?" I questioned, finally turning away from Isabelle and going into the kitchen where Sydney was.

"We have a lead on Anna."

OOOOO

When Sydney and I arrived at APO, she went to talk to Dixon. Jack asked me to help Rachel try to identify the photos of the man that Prophet Five gave Page 47 to. Rachel mentioned one thing strange – Anna didn't call him herself, but Peyton used her protocol to get in contact with him.

"Why would Peyton be calling one of Anna's contacts?" I asked.

"I don't know," she replied, shaking her head. She'd gotten the photo blown up and rotated correctly, putting it through the database to see if there was a match. "It was strange. She said that Anna worked for her now, but didn't give any reason as to why _she _was the one making the call." The scan didn't take long, and a profile appeared on the screen. "Moritz Coulber." She took a moment to read over the information.

"Why is Prophet Five handing the page over to an art historian? The CIA decoded the text years ago," I said as I looked over the information, not understanding.

"According to what Peyton said, there's some kind of a message hidden in the text. Something no one has seen yet," Rachel replied.

"So they're trying to get this guy to expose whatever that message is," I finished.

"Looks like." She went through a couple more pages of stuff, eventually seeing a list of his activity in the last few years. There were references to several different organizations, including the one that Renee used to work for.

"Print that off," I said. Rachel did, picking up the pages and adding them to the file she started when APO intercepted the call. Once she had everything, we went back to where Sydney and Dixon were to show them what we had.

"We've identified the man from Zurich," she said, handing the folder to Sydney. "Moritz Coulber. Used to be an art historian, was kind of a big shot. Supposedly he discovered Da Vinci's lost drawings," Rachel explained.

"Supposedly?" Dixon asked, seeming confused.

"He forged them," Rachel stated. "He was completely discredited."

"It looks like he went freelance," Sydney replied, flipping through the pages for a moment.

"And plenty of criminal organizations are willing to put his talent to good use," Rachel continued. "Including Le Corbeau."

"He worked with Renee," Dixon realized.

"More than once," Rachel confirmed.

"At least she'll know how to find him," Sydney said. She started off, probably to get a hold of Renee. I looked over, seeing Marshall come running towards the four of us.

"Syd, your father's on line two," he said, smiling and sounding excited. "Nadia's awake."

OOOOO

I told Sydney I'd stay behind at APO and try to contact Renee, ask her about Coulber and how we could get in contact with him. She said she would start working on a plan, and she'd call back when she had his contact protocol mapped out.

Dixon mentioned something about looking into Sloane's travel records, and that Jack had called from the hospital and said something about Nadia's cure coming from Barcelona. Which, coincidentally, was where Prophet Five was now running their operations, and where Peyton had called Coulber from earlier that day.

Once Dixon had everything, the two of us went to meet with Jack. He still didn't seem convinced that we knew what Sloane was doing. Apparently, he'd had a plausible excuse when Jack spoke with him at the hospital, and he had cured Nadia.

"There are still elements of his alibis that don't make sense," Dixon continued, shaking his head a little. We were all seated in Jack's office, and Jack was looking over Sloane's travel itinerary. "Phone calls that weren't logged correctly, phone numbers that don't exist anymore…"

"Plus there are some trips in there that don't have any documentation. It's like he just entered the names of places but never actually went," I continued. Jack nodded a little, flipping through the pages.

"It still doesn't leave us with anything concrete," he said after a moment, looking up at Dixon and I.

"It _is _suspicious, though," Dixon replied.

"Sloane did mention something about doing back-channel research, maybe that's where some of this stems from," Jack continued.

"Maybe," I agreed. "Or maybe he really _is_ still involved with Prophet Five."

"We need a way to find out for sure," Dixon threw in. "Something that would pique his interest, see if he goes to them with it."

"Page 47," I realized suddenly. Dixon looked over at me. "Prophet Five has it. They're looking for some hidden message in the text. We tell Sloane that's what they're up to. He might try to contact them, see what it is."

"That would definitely get his attention," Dixon agreed.

"All right," Jack replied. "I'll ask him to come in first thing in the morning. We can use that to bait him – see if he makes contact with Prophet Five after that." He turned his attention to Dixon. "Set up some taps around the office – anywhere you think Sloane might be likely to make the call."

"Will do," Dixon said with a nod, heading to op tech to get the gear from Marshall. Once he was gone, Jack returned his attention to me.

"You don't believe he's still working for them, do you?" I asked. He sighed, looking back down at the documentation in front of him.

"I'm not sure _what _I believe."

OOOOO

By the next evening, Nadia had been released from the hospital. I was sure Sloane had offered that she could stay with him, but Sydney wanted her to stay at our place. I didn't blame her – she and her sister had grown close before Sovogda, and this was the first chance they'd had to talk since that night.

I assured Sydney that I would be fine watching Isabelle while the two of them spent some time catching up. I didn't expect that any of us were going to be up that late anyway, after the last couple of weeks.

Jack did speak with Sloane that morning, mentioning the message that Prophet Five was searching for. So far, nothing had come of it, but I knew Sloane wouldn't wait long before trying to figure out what this hidden message of Rambaldi's could be. I didn't doubt that he felt some form of compassion or love for Nadia, but I was still reluctant to believe that he would let go of this Rambaldi thing so easily.

I did manage to get a mission worked out with Renee, and Tom had gone to Paris so they could contact Coulber. We already knew he was in Zurich, at least the last time we heard about him, but Renee insisted that the best way to get a meeting with him would be to follow his protocol. Hopefully, he would be able to lead us back to Anna.

It wasn't quite an hour before Sydney returned to the nursery. She looked slightly worried about something, and seemed almost distracted when she said Nadia had left for a while.

"What's going on?" I questioned. Sydney sighed, going over to the crib and looking in at our daughter. Finally, she turned around and looked at me seriously.

"My dad just called," she explained. "He doesn't know what's going on for sure, but Sloane set a meet for tonight. He's going to surveil it."

"And Nadia went to meet up with him?" I asked. She nodded.

"I had to tell her," she explained. "This isn't the first time we've been suspicious of her father, and maybe it's like last time – maybe it's nothing. But, it didn't feel right keeping it from her."

"No, it's good that you did," I assured her. She nodded a little, folding her arms over her chest and looking off towards the far wall. "For Nadia's sake, I hope you're right – I hope it's nothing."

"I hope so, too," she replied. She sighed, shaking her head. "He seemed so happy at the hospital. I haven't seen him like that… Since we first found Nadia. For a long time, I didn't think it was _possible _for Arvin Sloane to care about anything except power. He's been like that ever since Emily died."

I didn't say anything. I could still remember back when Sydney was a double agent, working at SD-6. She always used to talk about how much she _hated _Sloane, how she wished she could kill him for the horrible things he'd done. It seemed that seeing him around Nadia had almost made her reconsider some of that anger.

"Do you think he's still working for Prophet Five?" she questioned. I was silent for a long moment, finally figuring that if Jack wasn't going to tell her anything, I would have to do it.

"When we were at the hospital, after Isabelle was born and I went to call Renee, I saw Sloane in the hallway," I started. "He was using one of the payphones. Now, I only heard his side of the conversation, but it sounded like he was talking to someone inside Prophet Five."

"What did he say?" Sydney asked.

"Something about how they weren't supposed to hurt you, and that kidnapping you was ignoring whatever rules he had," I replied. "They were obviously looking for the name, they'd figured out you gave them the wrong one in the Indian Ocean." Sydney just nodded a little. "I mean, I don't know for sure if that's who he was talking to, but it sure as hell seemed like it."

"Yeah," she said with a nod. "I guess we'll see what happens tonight."

OOOOO

Jack and Nadia both returned about an hour later. Nadia seemed tired, but relieved about whatever they'd seen at this meeting of Sloane's.

"What happened?" Sydney questioned.

"We tracked Sloane to a storage facility," Jack replied. "There was nothing suspicious there."

"He was keeping my things there," Nadia added, smiling a little. "He just went to get some of them, that's all."

"And Barcelona?" I questioned.

"It checks out," Jack replied. "There were boxes of paperwork, all thoroughly documented results from clinical trials. All of the recent ones stem from a facility in Barcelona."

"Good," Sydney said with a smile, looking over at her sister. "I'm glad."

"Me too," she replied.

"What about Coulber?" I questioned, changing the subject. I didn't want to continue this discussion about Sloane. I knew what I saw at the hospital, and I didn't believe any of this. Still, I wasn't about to start an argument.

"Tom and Renee have made contact, we'll know by morning," Jack answered. I nodded a little but didn't say anything more. "You should all get some rest."

"All right," Sydney said. "Bye, Dad." He smiled, nodding his goodbyes to the three of us before leaving.

"I was thinking," Nadia started. "I mean, I still want to stay here for tonight, it's late, but… Especially if you're all going to try and find Anna, I might go and stay with my father after all. If you don't mind," she added quickly, looking over at Sydney and trying to gauge her reaction. She smiled.

"No, that's great," she replied. "You should."

"Okay," Nadia said with a smile. She yawned tiredly. "I'm going to go to bed."

"Okay," Sydney said. "Night."

"Good night." They hugged for a minute, and Nadia wished me good night as well before disappearing into the bathroom to get ready for bed.

"Are you sure letting her stay over at Sloane's is a good idea?" I questioned, quietly so that Nadia wouldn't hear me. Sydney looked at me in question, like she didn't understand why I would think otherwise.

"Why not?" she asked after a moment. "I mean, you heard what my dad said, everything checked out."

"I know," I replied, nodding.

"You still don't trust him," she stated.

"Who, Sloane?" I asked. She nodded. "And you do?"

"I don't know," she replied. "He gave up on Rambaldi before. I mean, the only reason he went to Sovogda was to try and protect Nadia from Elena." I sighed, nodding in agreement but still not believing it. "Maybe he really _has _changed."

"Maybe," I agreed after a moment. I knew Sydney could tell I was reluctant to trust anything Sloane said. Finally, she sighed, shaking her head a little.

"Whatever," she said after a moment. "I'm going to try and get some sleep."

OOOOO

As expected, we were called back in to APO first thing the next morning. Nadia had collected the few things she had at our place and gone to Sloane's, figuring that once we had a lead on Anna the whole group would be off halfway across the globe again. I still wasn't sure why, but I didn't think it was a good idea for her to stay with him. I hoped that, despite my skepticism, I was wrong about Sloane and he really _had _changed.

I wanted to believe that Sydney was right.

Even so, she still seemed upset about what I'd said the night before. I wanted to try and console her, to tell her that I was sure Nadia would be fine – since I figured she was worried about her sister – and there was nothing to worry about. But, I couldn't do it. I couldn't say those things because we both knew I didn't believe them.

What was even stranger; I was starting to feel like I was the only one.

I figured that our discussion last night was to blame for her stoic attitude that morning, and was the reason she disappeared into her office as soon as we got to APO. I decided against bothering her, knowing it would be a waste of time anyway, and went to my desk.

I couldn't stop thinking about Sloane. What if his first call was a diversion? Did he know that Jack and I suspected something, and was that why there didn't seem to be any evidence supporting my theory now? And, even if he hadn't called Prophet Five to see about this hidden message in Rambaldi's Page 47, did that really mean he was no longer interested in these prophecies?

"The page is a fake." I looked up, seeing Sydney approach. "I just talked to Tom. The copy of Page 47 that Anna gave Coulber is a fake."

"What?" I asked, confused.

"Apparently, when Coulber was looking for this hidden message, he found bits of titanium dioxide in the paper. The page can't be more than eighty or ninety years old," she continued.

"Okay, so what do we do?" I asked.

"He's got a meet set with Anna tomorrow in Ghana," Sydney replied. "We're going to keep the meet, hope we can grab her before she has the chance to get away, or discover that the page is a fake."

"If she doesn't know, then…"

"Where's the real one?" Sydney asked. I nodded. "I have no idea. Maybe the DSR still has it, and they gave us a copy to give to Prophet Five to keep them from getting the original. Or, maybe Anna switched them out and is trying to sell it to the highest bidder. I don't know."

"If the DSR kept the original, they would have said something to Dixon," I stated.

"Maybe," she replied. "Either way, I have to go let my father know so we can start planning an op."

OOOOO

To my surprise, when the assignments for the mission went out, my name was nowhere on the list. Jack had tasked practically everyone else on the mission. Sydney, Dixon, Tom, Rachel, and even Renee were all going to be there with Coulber.

I didn't even get the chance to talk to Sydney before she left. I knew that she was still angry with me, and had to wonder for a second if perhaps this was her idea. Yes, I knew it was dangerous, but this was the first real step towards shutting Prophet Five down once and for all, and I wasn't even included?

So, I went to see Jack.

Marshall was just leaving, carrying a large map and several toy cars and muttering something about how no one appreciated a good visual aid anymore. I stepped into Jack's office, waiting for the door to close behind me.

"Why did you send everyone else to Ghana?" I questioned.

"Sydney needs all the back up she can get, especially going after someone as dangerous as Anna Espinosa," Jack replied, not looking up from whatever papers he had spread all over his desk.

"Then why am I not on the plane?" I asked. Finally, he looked up at me.

"We've been over this – it's too great a risk," he stated.

"Jack, come on, you cannot seriously believe that. Not now," I replied. "I've been here, in Los Angeles, for weeks now. If Prophet Five still wanted me out of the picture that badly, something would have happened by now."

"We know they've been laying low since Irina stole The Horizon," Jack stated. "This meeting in Ghana is one of their biggest concerns at the moment. Anna will be there, and who knows who else from Prophet Five."

"You know, I am capable of taking care of myself," I shot back.

"Yes, and we all saw how well that worked out last time," he snapped. I didn't reply. "I understand your anger, believe me. But I also understand that there is a good chance several members of Prophet Five are going to be there at this meeting. Now, they know Sydney and the others don't know who they are, but you might."

"I don't, though."

"They don't know that!" he said, raising his voice. "And I am through arguing with you about this." He gathered everything off his desk, getting to his feet and storming out of the office.

OOOOO

I didn't want to deal with Jack, so I left APO and went home. Agent Rantz and his partner were there, of course, watching over Isabelle. Presently, Rantz's partner was in the nursery, reading something to her.

"Agent Vaughn," he greeted with a nod. "We heard from Agent Bristow a little while ago. We can stay while she's gone, if you would be more comfortable."

"Yeah, I uh… I have to go check something out, too," I replied, going into the kitchen and finding Sydney's notepad where she usually wrote out the grocery list. I took one of the pages, finding a pen.

"Of course," Agent Rantz replied with a nod. He disappeared after that, probably into the nursery as well.

I'd given it a lot of thought on the drive home. I knew Jack didn't want me involved, but I couldn't shake the feeling that something bad was going to happen in Ghana. So, despite what Jack said, I was going on my own. By the time he realized what had happened, everything would be over and it would be too late to stop me.

It took me a while to figure out how exactly to go about this. If everything went well, Sydney would be _furious_ that I went to Ghana and didn't tell anyone. So, assuming everything went well, I didn't want her to know until it was over.

Lying to her was awful. That was the whole reason we were all in this mess to begin with – I'd gotten tired of lying to her and tried to explain about Prophet Five. Still, I felt stuck, to a certain extent. She and Jack were just worried, and while I understood that, I _couldn't _sit here and do nothing.

I spent enough time doing that already.

So, my plan was to leave a note for Sydney – assuming Jack would be the one to find it and read it, of course – that Renee had called me with another lead on one of the members of Prophet Five. I wrote that it wasn't dangerous – it was just recon – and that I'd be back in a day or two at the most. I taped it to the fridge and headed for the airport.

Getting a flight to Ghana on a commercial airline was a little more complicated, but eventually I was on a plane. I calculated the time in my head, figuring that I would land there about an hour and a half before the meeting between Anna and Coulber. Hopefully, that would be enough time to get to the marketplace and find somewhere to hide and wait for Anna to show up.

The flight was long, and seemed even longer because I didn't have anyone to talk to. The girl sitting next to me spent the entire flight belting out bubblegum pop she was listening to on her CD player, which was enough to drive just about anyone insane. I didn't think I'd ever been so glad to get off a plane in my life, except for maybe coming back from Prague and getting to see Sydney again after all that time.

I got a ride to the marketplace. I saw Dixon first, seated at the restaurant. Coulber was a few tables off, drinking. I imagined he was the most nervous of anyone, considering he was the bait in this trap. It was amazing how the bait never really fared well in these situations.

I had a hat and a pair of sunglasses on, and tried to blend in with the crowd as best I could. Of course, I didn't have a radio or a transmitter, so I couldn't hear any of the conversation to find out what was going on. I watched the restaurant, seeing Rachel approach and take a seat beside Coulber.

After a little while, I saw Anna's car drive up. It was the only relatively nice-looking car in the entire marketplace, which was how it was easy to pick out of the crowd. I ducked back behind one of the stands, finally seeing Tom at the far end of the market. I figured that they were trying to box her in.

Suddenly, the car revved its engine and careened off towards the far end of the marketplace. Somehow, Anna knew that it was an ambush. I wondered for a second if maybe she'd seen one of us, but didn't really have time to think about it.

The car crashed into one of the stands, causing a good portion of it to collapse. I saw Dixon ready his weapon and head for the car. It backed up, spinning around and heading the other direction once the driver saw that Tom's van was blocking the exit.

I saw Renee appear across the marketplace and take off for one of the back alleys. Everyone else was following the car, and I wondered for a second if maybe Anna had bailed out of the car, and Renee saw her making a run for it. I ducked into the other back alley, trying to weave my way around – without being seen, of course – and follow her.

Which was when I ran smack into Sydney.

For a moment, she looked at me in question. She looked surprised to see me there, but didn't seem angry or anything. I could still hear the commotion out in the market, and heard a few gunshots go off.

"Syd-" She didn't let me finish.

"What are you doing here?" she asked.

"I followed you guys. I know, I shouldn't have, and I'm sorry. But, with Anna being here and everything, I knew you'd need back up," I explained. She nodded a little, seeming distracted. It was almost like she was listening to the com or something, but the expression on her face continued to elude me. "What happened?"

"It was an ambush," she answered quickly. "The meet was a setup, Prophet Five must've seen it coming. Their operatives are all over the place." She paused, looking at me for a moment. "We should get out of here."

"What about the others?" I questioned, gesturing back to the marketplace. She paused for a moment, turning her head and putting one hand up to her ear.

"Yeah," she said. "Okay, we'll meet up later." She turned back to me. "Dixon's taking care of it. Let's go."


	23. Chapter 23

**Disclaimer: **same

**A/N: **Thanks again for the reviews and here's chapter 23!

**Bree**: No, I haven't quite finished the whole story. I have written up to chapter 26, and am in the middle of chapter 27 right now. There's probably going to be 29 or 30 when I finish.

OOOOO

Sydney took one of the cars that was parked off to the side of the main road, hotwiring it and driving a good ways away from the marketplace. Luckily, everyone was still rather caught up in the commotion of the accident and the gunshots, so there weren't any people watching what we were up to. Once we were far enough away, she retrieved her cell phone, stopping the car and getting out. I stepped out as well, not missing the annoyed look she shot me when I did.

"Dixon, it's me," she started. "No, I have Vaughn with me, we're a good distance from the meet. Yeah." There was a pause. "No, I know. We'll have to get to a safe house. Somewhere Prophet Five can't track us."

I took a second to get a look at our surroundings. We were out in the middle of nowhere in the desert. We'd driven for a good two hours before stopping, to make sure no one was following us, and the heat and the sun were beginning to get to me. I'd thrown the baseball cap in the back a while ago, and I was beginning to hope we'd be out of here before much longer.

"They did?" Sydney asked, looking up at me with a confused expression on her face. She nodded after a moment. "Of course. No, send it there, we'll see what's on it and pursue it ourselves." Another pause. "Okay. We'll meet him there." She hung up.

"Did he arrange a transport?" I asked.

"There will be a helicopter waiting about an hour north of here. They're going to take us to a safe house in Nepal. It should be far enough away from Prophet Five to be safe," she explained.

"All right. Anything else?" I questioned.

"They sent in a retrieval team a little while after we left – local dispatch. They found Renee's body," she stated.

"What?" I questioned, surprised. _Renee was killed?_

"Someone slit her throat," Sydney stated, shaking her head dismissively.

"You didn't see anyone?" I asked. She shook her head a little. I'd seen her coming from that direction, just before we ran into each other. Unless Renee went somewhere else, which seemed unlikely…

"Apparently they found a microchip implanted in her chest," she continued, shrugging one shoulder. "Dixon said he'd have a team drop it at the safe house so we can take a look at it."

"All right," I said, nodding. "We should get going, then."

OOOOO

Sydney didn't say much on the flight to Nepal. Dixon's contact – oddly, a man that I didn't recognize – dropped us off just outside the safe house and took off again, getting out of the way to minimize the attention the helicopter would attract.

Once again, we were pretty much in the middle of nowhere. I figured that was probably good – there was less chance of being ambushed like at the busy marketplace in Ghana.

Another man showed up about twenty minutes after we got there, handing Sydney a sealed envelope. She took it from him, smiling a little and closing the door. I was seated in the living room, watching her. I didn't know if it was the mission or the stress or the fear of Prophet Five finding us or _what_, but something seemed odd about her. The way she moved, the things she said… Something just wasn't quite _right_.

"Here it is," she said, sitting down and opening the envelope. She took out a small chip, looking at it for a moment. "It looks like it's got something etched on it." She squinted, looking at it closely. "Andre Michaux."

"My name?" I asked, taking the chip from her and looking at it. "That's weird." She shrugged a little, not knowing what to make of it either. I sighed, shaking my head. "I can't believe Renee's dead. If it hadn't been for her, I would've never known about Prophet Five or the truth about my father."

"What do you think it is?" she questioned.

"I don't know. Renee never mentioned it," I answered. "They couldn't decode it?"

"Some of the data's missing," she said, reaching over and taking it back from me. "They think it's been inside Renee's body since she was a kid – maybe thirty years." I was silent for a moment, starting to realize something. _It was implanted before our fathers were killed, back when they knew each other… And if the chip inside her had _my _name on it…_

"Where was it, exactly?" I questioned.

"What do you mean?" she asked.

"Inside Renee's body. Where was it?"

"In her chest, somewhere – that's all Dixon said," Sydney replied, shaking her head a little. "Why?"

"My father once told me a story that I had a bike accident as a kid. And even though I have no recollection of it, I never questioned him because it left me with this scar." I popped the top two buttons of my shirt open, pulling it aside and showing her the scar over my left pec. "Maybe the code isn't corrupted at all. Maybe there's another half."

Sydney immediately wandered off to find some medical supplies. While I wasn't exactly thrilled at the thought of getting cut open so we could dig around for a piece of a microchip, there was a good chance that there _was _another half. If it was something Renee's father and my father were working on, it could be the silver bullet we needed to take down Prophet Five once and for all.

She came back a little while later with some gauze and rubbing alcohol, as well as a small pair of scissors and a scalpel. I watched her dip the gauze in the alcohol, running it over the blade of the knife.

"Take your shirt off and come over here," she said, gesturing to the raised counter that sectioned off the living room from the kitchen. I unbuttoned the shirt the rest of the way, taking it halfway off but leaving the right arm on. I sat down on the counter in front of her. She took the gauze, rubbing at the area around the scar. "Okay. This might prevent infection, but… It won't help with the pain."

"Yeah, well, if you can handle childbirth, I can handle this," I replied. I smiled at her. "I'm in good hands." She didn't return the smile.

"Sit very still," she stated. "This is gonna hurt."

"I know, you said that," I told her. "It's okay. I trust you." I saw the ghost of a smile on her face, but the emotion behind it wasn't what I expected. It was almost… Cocky. Before I could say anything else, she dug the scalpel into my skin.

Suddenly, it didn't matter that she'd warned me – twice – that it was going to hurt. Despite her command to sit still, I found myself shifting my weight and trying to get away from the burning pain in my chest.

"You need to stay still," she said again. "Think about something else."

"Give me something else to think about," I said, gritting my teeth through the pain.

"Like what?" she asked.

"I don't know," I replied. I thought for a moment. "Are you still mad at me?"

"About what?" she questioned.

"Sloane," I stated. "Nadia going to stay with him, me saying it wasn't a good idea."

"Oh, that," she said with a nod. "No, of course not."

"Good," I grunted, swallowing thickly and trying not to focus on the feeling of her digging around with forceps looking for a tiny piece of computer hardware that had been there for the last thirty years. "I was gonna apologize for that, you know."

"For thinking it was a bad idea?" she questioned.

"For saying that there was no way Sloane could change for the better," I answered. "Maybe you were right, maybe he _can _be trusted."

To my surprise, she smirked, shaking her head a little. The reaction was over as quickly as it came, but I was starting to think about this. First, she looks surprised to see me in Ghana – not worried. Then, she insists we leave, without informing Dixon or Rachel or Tom of what was going on. The annoyed look outside the car, the strange way she moved or smiled, her complete _lack _of emotion as she dug around inside my chest, and now this reaction?

_What if this _isn't _Sydney?_

"Got it," she said suddenly, pulling the chip out from the wound. She looked at it, apparently fascinated. She distractedly picked up a piece of gauze and handed it to me. "Apply pressure." I did so, my mind whirling. We'd seen genetic doubles before. Maybe that chemical agent they sprayed Sydney with on the train from Lisbon…?

"Same etchings?" I asked her, not wanting her to notice anything off. If it really _wasn't _Sydney, I knew damn well who it _was_. And I didn't want to chance it.

"Renee Goursard," she read off the chip.

"Here, can I see that?" I asked. She looked at me, reluctant for a moment, and finally handed over the chip. I picked up the other piece, noticing a small tab sticking out of one end. I slid my half over it, and they clicked together instantly. "Perfect fit."

She put some tape over the gauze on my chest, and I took the chip into the other room where there was a computer. I hooked it up, waiting for a moment before several files popped up. There was a map, and wording in German across the top.

"German," Sydney said, looking at it closely.

"Yeah… Looks like some sort of emergency evacuation plan. Continuity of government from the Cold War," I translated, knowing perfectly well that Sydney spoke German and she would have immediately read all of that information off herself. I scrolled to the bottom of the page, opening another window. It was the diagram of a bunker. "It's a nuclear fallout bunker. Hamburg, Germany. Under Bergner Park."

"You think there's something there?" she asked.

"Maybe," I replied, eyes still locked on the computer screen. "I'm going to go with you to figure it out." I could tell she wanted to protest, but she hesitated – almost as if she wasn't certain _what_ to say. "You may need my help."

"You're right," she said finally, nodding a little. "I'll call for transport."

"Okay."

She vanished off into the other room to make the phone call. That was the second time she'd gone out of her way to make sure I couldn't hear her. I thought for a moment about trying to follow her, but then I came up with a better use of my time.

I got my cell phone and went to the other end of the living room, wanting to make sure she couldn't hear me. And I called Jack.

"Yes?" he answered almost immediately.

"It's me," I replied.

"Vaughn, where are you?" he questioned, sounding angry but also somewhat concerned.

"Nepal. But listen – I think we have a problem," I stated, keeping my voice just barely above a whisper.

"Sydney found your note – she's been trying to contact you." I felt my entire body freeze up at that. _It's not _HER "What's in Nepal?"

"Tell Syd to get to Hamburg, Germany, as quickly as possible," I replied, a new degree of intensity filling my voice. "Tell her Bergner Park, and to look for police."

"What's going on?" Jack asked.

"I can't explain right now, just tell her," I replied.

"All right," Jack finally conceded, obviously sensing that something was very wrong. "Anything else?"

"Yeah," I said. "Tell her she's been doubled."


	24. Chapter 24

**Dislcaimer: **same

**A/N: **Sorry this chapteris up a little later than I intended. Turns out when I copied it, I left the whole first part out. Oh well. Anyway, enjoy and please review!

OOOOO

"You're sure you've got the coordinates right?" I nodded in agreement, glancing down at the pages of information we'd printed off the computer. Sydney's double – whom I could only assume was Anna Espinosa – leaned over and looked at the sheets, then looked up at the scenery in front of us. "What happened to Bergner Park?"

"A lot changes in thirty years," I stated, looking out at the buildings that stood where the park used to be. It looked like a busy metropolis over there, stores and cafés filling the streets. "But those bunkers are steel-reinforced concrete. Be pretty tough to demolish something like that. My guess is that they're still under there – we just have to find a way in."

"You know, that diamond store over there probably has some pretty expensive pieces. Chances are, they're locked away every night," she said, looking out at one of the stores kind of in the center of the area.

"In some sort of basement storage room, maybe," I agreed.

"It's worth a try." She faked a smile. I wanted to strangle her with her seatbelt. "How do you wanna handle this?"

"Like we did in Cartejena," I shot back. So far, her performance had been less than adequate, and I wanted to see if Prophet Five even bothered to tell her anything before they sent her out in the field to try and impersonate Sydney.

"I'll follow your lead," she stated.

"Okay," I said after a moment, realizing she really knew nothing. "Let's go." I got out of the car, leading the way into the store. Anna followed close behind me, even going so far as to approach and take hold of my arm as we went into the store. As soon as we were inside, she went right over to one of the glass cases, picking out one of the largest rings she could find.

"Oh, baby, look at this one," she said, tapping the glass over the ring. I almost laughed at the fact that the ring was the complete opposite of the one Sydney said she wanted.

"Really?" I asked.

"Oh, it's gorgeous," she replied, looking back at me and smiling.

"I prefer that one, there," I said, approaching and pointing at one of the smaller ones. "It's a little less, uh… Big."

"No, no," Anna insisted, still pointing at the one.

"Anything you'd like to see?" the shopkeeper asked, smiling and coming over to where the two of us stood.

"Hi. Is this is princess cut?" she questioned.

"Yes, it is," he said with a smile, looking over at me. "Your girlfriend has very good taste."

"Yeah, for that price she might as well _be _a princess," I shot back.

"It costs nothing to try on," the shopkeeper shot back, unlocking the case and getting the ring out. He put the ring on Anna's finger. Suddenly, her hand started shaking and she began to look like she might faint. "Ah. A stone of that quality has this effect on some people."

"No, she has seizures," I said to the shopkeeper, trying to sound concerned. "Kelly, just breathe. It's okay." I turned to the armed guard standing by the door. "Can we get some help over here?"

The guard immediately came running over. Just as he approached Anna, she swung one elbow back and hit him in the face. She grabbed his gun off his belt, passing it over to me. I raised it, aiming at the elderly shopkeeper.

"How do we get access downstairs?" I questioned.

"My keys," he said after a moment, digging into his pocket. "Take my keys." As he fought with the key ring for a moment, and Anna was busy making sure the guard was out, I ejected the clip on the gun and slid it into the palm of my hand.

The shopkeeper handed me the keys, giving me the chance to slip both them and the clip into my pocket. Anna stood, and I handed her the now-empty gun.

"Watch him," I told her. She nodded, taking the gun and keeping it trained on the shopkeeper. I headed for the back door, locked and marked with a red sign that read 'staff only' in German. It took a moment to figure out which of the keys would open the door, but before long, I was in.

I surprised another employee on the other side of the door. She had obviously seen what was going on in the store, and began begging me in German not to hurt her. I assured her everything was fine, and told her to go call the police.

"Make sure the woman in the store doesn't see you," I added. "She's very dangerous." The woman nodded, heading back towards what I assumed were the offices to try and call the police.

I darted down the stairs, looking around. There were some display stands, a couple of the older style glass cases, cleaning equipment, and some other odds and ends. However, there was nothing that led to the bunker I was looking for.

I pulled the papers out of my pocket, looking at the map. Judging from where I was, there should have been a corridor behind the far wall. I tucked the papers away, picking up one of the heavy display stands.

"I hope this works," I muttered under my breath before hitting the wall with it. Luckily, it was just wood paneling and drywall, and it gave way very easily. I hit it a few more times, finally pulling a large section of the wall free and making a hole large enough to climb through.

Towards the end of the corridor was another dead end. Frustrated, I looked around for a moment, almost missing the keypad on the right-hand wall. I pulled my utility knife out of my pocket, unscrewing the keypad from the wall. Behind it, there was a single wire. Luckily, it was pretty easy to hotwire technology from the Cold War.

I sliced through the wire, stripping both ends and touching them together several times. Finally, the door slid open just to my right. I dropped the wires, stepping inside and turning on the light.

It didn't look like anyone had set foot in here for decades. There were papers _everywhere_. Tacked to the walls, in piles on the desks that lined the room, some spread out over the floor or in the large cabinets against the back wall. Most of the ones on the walls looked like flow charts of some kind, strings tacked from one to another to indicate connections.

I went over to one of the desks, turning on the desk lamp. It took a moment to flicker to life, and I almost wanted to brush some of the dust and cobwebs off it to see better, but then the files on the desk caught my attention.

They were files on people. Names, dates, account numbers, flight records, aliases, contact protocols…

_These are the files on The Twelve. This is Prophet Five!_

"Thanks. I got it from here." I looked up, turning around. Anna was standing in the doorway, a smug grin on her face and her gun pointed at me. "It's a pity you'll never know." She smiled, pulling the trigger. The gun gave off a quiet clicking noise, but nothing else happened. I pulled the clip out of my pocket, showing it to her. "You knew?"

"Guess you're not such a good actress, Anna," I shot back. I saw the anger in her eyes when I called her by name. She dropped the useless weapon, rushing at me. I blocked her first blow, twisting her arm behind her back and forcing her down against the desk in front of us. "And just for the record? You're a terrible kisser."

She snapped her head up, throwing me off. We traded blows for a moment, and then I caught her arm and threw her back into one of the filing cabinets. She smiled a little, getting to her feet again.

"I always said Sydney was too good for you," she replied. I tried to hit her again, but she brought her knee into my chest before I had the chance. I stumbled back, crying out in pain when she hit my chest where we'd extracted the microchip. She grabbed my shoulder, using my head to break the glass on one of the cabinets. I fell back, dazed, and hit the floor.

When I looked up, she had another gun that must have been in the cabinet. She loaded a round into the chamber, pointing it at me.

"Let's see if this one's loaded."

A shot went off. For a fraction of a second, I expected to feel the pain of the shot, but then I realized the sound was silenced. I looked up at Anna, seeing a spot of dark red blood beginning to appear on her jacket. There were more shots, three or four to her chest, and then one to her head. Her eyes got wide, and her body slumped to the floor.

Standing behind her was Sydney.

I sighed in relief, slowly getting to my feet. She came inside, hugging me for a long moment.

"Are you okay?" she asked when she finally stepped back. I just nodded a little, the wound in my chest still burning like hell. "What _happened_?"

"Ghana," I replied. "I went after you guys, I was worried. Ran into her." I nodded towards Anna's body, trying not to shudder at her physical resemblance to Sydney. It was one thing when she was up and walking around, but lying dead on the concrete with a bullet hole in her head? "I'm sorry. I know it was stupid to come after you guys, but-"

She interrupted me by kissing me. All of the tension and the worry left the room immediately, and for a moment, it was like we were the only two people in the world. Finally, she pulled away, smiling a little.

"Doesn't matter," she said. "At least you're okay."

OOOOO

"Project summaries, test subjects, names, dates – it's _all _here," Sydney said as she flipped through some of the folders on the desk. "You're father's research of Prophet Five."

"Most of these organizations still exist, Syd," I replied.

"We can end it all," she stated. I looked at her, still reluctant to believe what we were looking at. Suddenly, there was the sound of a cell phone ringing. It wasn't mine, and from the look on Sydney's face, it wasn't hers.

Anna.

She turned, going over to the body, kneeling down and reaching into Anna's pocket. She pulled out a cell phone, glancing up at me before flipping it open and raising it to her ear.

"Go ahead," she said in a very toneless voice, trying to impersonate Anna. "Yes, I'm done here." She paused for a moment, and then hung up, getting to her feet. "That was Peyton. She's coming to extract Anna," she explained. "I can go in her place – make them think I'm her."

"Syd…" I started, already knowing she'd made up her mind the second she answered that phone.

"Contact my father, explain the situation," she continued. I finally nodded.

"Okay." I took the chip out of my pocket, separating my half from the half Prophet Five found inside Renee. "Here, take this. It's useless to them without the other half. Take the tracking device in your phone and embed it in the chip before you hand it over – we'll be able to track your movements." She nodded, taking the chip.

"I have to go," she said, tears in her eyes at the thought of having to leave, having to subject herself to pretending to be Anna Espinosa.

"I know," I said quietly. She stepped close again, kissing me.

"Be careful," I told her after pulling away. She tried to smile through the tears, and then disappeared.

OOOOO

I called Jack, telling him what was going on and that we would need Marshall's help. He put me on hold, saying that he'd get everything set up and get Marshall to patch me through to the conference room so we could track Sydney. It took a few minutes, but finally I heard the phone line go active again.

"Vaughn, can you hear me?" Marshall asked.

"You're clear," I replied.

"Where is he?" I heard Dixon ask. Obviously, Jack hadn't gotten the chance to explain the mess with Anna yet.

"Hamburg," Jack answered. "He and Sydney uncovered a store-room of information. Material that he and Renee Rienne's fathers gathered during their investigation of Prophet Five. You'll join Vaughn – transmit the documentation back here for analysis."

"All right," Dixon said. "I'm on my way."

"I'll see you soon," I replied. "Marshall, how we doing?"

"Triangulating the coordinates, just give me a sec," Marshall replied. "Okay, tracker's hot. Got her, there she is. She's on… Tiergarden Strasse." I smiled a little at his choppy pronunciation of the German words.

"What just happened?" Jack asked suddenly.

"I'm not sure," Marshall replied. I could hear him on his keyboard. "I-I think the tracker crashed."

"Crashed? What does that mean, 'crashed'?" I questioned.

"We've lost Sydney," Marshall replied.

"Marshall, find her!" I exclaimed, already getting to my feet.

"I can't, I think it must've fritzed out," Marshall said, sounding frantic.

"Patch it through a traffic cam, do something, just _find_ her!"

"Don't worry, I'm on it," Marshall replied, seeming to calm down now that he was working on getting the traffic cameras. I ran upstairs, going back to the alley where Anna and I had parked the car before going into the jewelry store. I climbed in, gunning the engine and taking off. I knew Marshall wouldn't be able to follow Sydney on the traffic cameras forever, so I figured I could get her my phone and we could use that to track her from there.

I just had to catch up.

"Okay. I got her. They're headed south on A-7," Marshall finally said.

"The airport," I realized. "Marshall, I'm on Doverkhamp headed east, I'm gonna need directions." I swerved out into traffic, trying to steer the car with one hand and hold onto the phone with the other.

"Okay, give me a sec, just, um… Left at the next intersection," Marshall relayed. I spun the wheel, cutting in front of a whole lane of traffic and turning left. "You're closing in."

"Marshall," I started, seeing a whole line of cars stopped in front of me, blocking the way. "I'm gonna need a green light in a hurry."

"Easier said than done, it's all in German," Marshall continued.

"Marshall!"

"Marshall, there," I heard Jack interrupt. "Grun – green!" Suddenly, the light turned green. I swerved around one of the cars, speeding through the intersection.

"I'm giving Sydney my phone!" I said, hanging up as I pulled into the parking lot at the airport. I jumped out of the car, not even turning the engine off, running inside. I could see Sydney and Peyton at the security checkpoint.

_Come on, Syd, turn around!_

To my surprise, she did. Her eyes widened when she saw me, and she immediately turned the other way so Peyton wouldn't notice anything. She was currently through the checkpoint, and the guards were scanning her with one of their wands. I wove through the crowd, handing Sydney my cell phone and ducking away around the corner just as Peyton turned around.

"Shall we?" I heard her ask. Sydney nodded a little, tossing the phone in one of the bins and stepping through the metal detector.

OOOOO

Once we had a way of tracking Sydney, I went back to the bunker. I didn't want to risk using a civilian landline to call Jack and Marshall back, but I figured Dixon was already en-route. He'd be able to find me, and we could use his phone to call them if the need arose.

While I was waiting for Dixon to arrive, I started going through some of the files again. Most of the information concerned people who got too close to Prophet Five, but there were hints at the people who were involved. The names of The Twelve – the names we'd been looking for.

If we could get those names, we could put a stop to this whole thing.

"Hey." I glanced up, looking over as Dixon stepped into the room.

"Hey," I replied.

"Jack wanted me to give you this," he said, handing me his cell phone. He looked around for a moment, apparently amazed with all of the information contained here. "This is _all_ regarding Prophet Five?" he questioned.

"This entire bunker contains evidence of… Mysterious deaths, assassinations, car bombings – all of them involving people who were investigating Prophet Five," I explained. "They basically killed anyone who got too close."

"How did you find out about this place?" he questioned.

"Jack didn't tell you?" He shook his head. I explained about the chip, saying that Anna must've killed Renee and Prophet Five picked up her body, finding it inside her chest. "I ran into Anna in Ghana. I thought she was Sydney."

"The resemblance was a bit… Striking," Dixon said after a moment. In order to keep Prophet Five thinking Sydney was really dead, Jack had one of his assets come and pick up the body, but I imagined Dixon had probably run into them on their way out. Sydney was already long gone, of course. The police had been 'informed' that the couple that attempted to rob the jewelry store had been dealt with.

"Tell me about it," I agreed. I was silent for a moment. Dixon looked over at me.

"I'm worried about her too," he finally said. I smiled a little, wondering if I was really _that _easy to read, but just nodded. Before I could reply, Dixon's cell phone rang.

"Yeah, Jack?" I answered.

"You and Dixon need to get to Rome – Sydney's on her way there. I've got a team on the way to box everything up and bring it back to APO," Jack replied.

"Of course," I said. "We'll contact you when we arrive." I hung up, looking back at Dixon. "Jack's sending in a team to box all this up. Sydney's en route, we're gonna provide back up."

"Where's she headed?" Dixon questioned.

"Rome."

OOOOO

Dixon and I made it to Rome first. Jack called again on the way, telling us where Sydney was meeting whatever 'contact' Prophet Five had set up for Anna. Dixon took up a position on a park bench across the street from the place where the meet was – an off-the-track betting bar.

For a few minutes, I sat down beside Dixon on the bench. I kept an eye on the traffic, waiting to try and spot Sydney before she went into the bar. Eventually, I noticed a magazine stand not far from where the two of us were sitting. Assuming she was coming from the airport, she'd have to come from that direction and pass right by the magazine stand.

"I'll be right back," I told Dixon, getting to my feet and heading over there. It struck me how much this was like old times, back when Sydney was still working for SD-6. Meeting in places like this, never really looking at each other because there was a chance someone would see.

"They're here," Dixon said over the com. "She's headed your way." I nodded a little, picking up one of the magazines at random and flipping through it for a moment. I risked one glance in her direction, seeing the recognition on her face. She stepped up beside me, careful to keep her eyes straight ahead. It helped a little that it was the middle of the afternoon and we were both wearing sunglasses.

For a moment, neither of us said anything. I knew she had to be thinking the same thing – that it was like all those times in LA. Meeting in a park or a convenience store, or at a gas station.

"You smell nice," I said after a moment, catching her smile out of the corner of my eye. "So we looked into the monastery, San Cielo. Are you sure about that name?"

"Yeah, why?" she asked.

"Marshall couldn't find any record of it," I answered.

"I'm meeting someone inside the OTB, he's supposed to brief me on the rest," she explained.

"Are you sure about this?" I questioned.

"It's the only way. We have to _end _this," she replied after a moment, shaking her head a little.

"Okay," I conceded. "Dixon and I will have your back. If anything happens, we'll pull you out. So, who's this contact?"

"They said I'd know him when I saw him," she replied.

"Syd, be careful." I looked over at her seriously. She just nodded a little, setting down the magazine she was looking at and heading for the bar. I waited a moment longer, finally circling back around to the bench and sitting down. Dixon was watching traffic again, trying to keep an eye out for anything suspicious.

"She's all right?" he asked after a moment, keeping his voice down so no one would really know we were talking to each other. If Prophet Five was surveilling the area, we didn't want to tip them off on our location.

"Yeah," I replied. "I just wish there was another way to do this."

"If anything goes wrong, we'll back her up," he said again. I just nodded a little.

"I'm gonna try and get a look inside. See if I can figure out who this contact is," I said after a moment.

"She didn't say?" he questioned.

"Just that she'd know him when she saw him – that's all the information they gave her," I explained, getting up again and wandering over across the street. The windows were tinted, but I could still see through them. Sydney was sitting up at the bar, and turned to talk to someone.

Her contact. _Sark._

I went back to the bench.

"It's Sark," I said to Dixon.

"Her contact?" he asked.

"Yep," I replied with a nod.

"Better the enemy you know," Dixon continued after a moment. "She can handle Sark." While I was still worried, I knew he was right. Sydney _could _handle Sark.

I kept an eye on the door of the bar, waiting to see if the two of them would emerge. We could still track her fairly well, but there was no way to get her a transmitter, so Dixon and I had no idea what was going on inside the bar.

Which made it even more surprising when it exploded.

I was on my feet in a second, Dixon right behind me. However, before the two of us could even get across the street, police cars began streaming in, all pulling up right at the bar. Someone must have alerted them ahead of time – there was no way their response time was _that _fast.

The heavy police presence effectively blocked Dixon and I's path across the street. I glanced over at him, seeing the same worried expression on his face. After a moment, Sark walked out, holding a gun and a bag of money. He held his hands up in the air, setting the bag down. Sydney emerged behind him, also carrying a gun.

"It's all over," he said in Italian. "We surrender. My partner and I have seen the error of our ways." He set his gun down, prompting Sydney to follow suit. As soon as it was clear that they didn't intend to fight, several officers approached and cuffed them, leading them into cars.

"Come on," Dixon said. "Let's contact Marshall."


	25. Chapter 25

**Disclaimer: **same

**A/N: **Thanks for the reviews everyone, and enjoy Chapter 25!

OOOOO

Once the police left the area, Dixon called Jack. He relayed that Marshall had already tapped into the Italian police scanner network, and said that Sydney and Sark were most likely to be taken to La Fossa Prison.

"La Fossa?" Dixon questioned. The two of us were currently in his car, and he'd hooked up his phone to a small portable speaker unit so both of us could be in on the call. "I've never heard of it."

"Good thing, too," Marshall said. As usual, I could hear the clicking of his keyboard in the background. "It's a maximum-security prison about three hours outside of Rome. Middle-of-nowhere. Looks like the high-level Italian authorities are the only ones that even know it's _there_."

"Why take Sydney and Sark there?" I asked.

"Most likely, they ran their identities once they were arrested. Sydney, of course, has no criminal record to speak of, but Sark's information is all over the world," Jack answered. "They would red-flag him immediately and take him somewhere they knew he could be dealt with."

"Which means whatever they're looking for, it must be there," Dixon inferred.

"It seems likely that the explosion was a setup," Jack agreed.

"Okay, we're in," Marshall said suddenly. "Of course, I can't get any on-site surveillance without a tap into their independent network, _but_ I have got some basic construction blueprints. It looks like there's a sewer access junction about three hundred feet or so off the prison itself – it leads right underneath. If I'm reading this right – and, of course, I am, I mean, it's in Italian but the premise of electrical and mechanical lines running through these access points is pretty universally understood-"

"Marshall?" Jack interrupted.

"Oh, sorry," Marshall apologized immediately. "Anyway, it looks like if you can get into the sewer you can get to an electrical junction box. We should be able to tap into the security feeds from there."

"Should be or _will _be?" I questioned.

"Will be," Marshall corrected. "I hope."

"All right," Dixon said, starting the car. "We're on our way."

OOOOO

Marshall managed to give us general directions to where we needed to crawl into the sewer and make our way towards the prison. I could just barely see the top of the building from where we were. Marshall had explained that, according to everyone that wasn't a part of the staff or very highly placed in the police system in Rome, everyone thought it was some kind of fancy outpatient resort for cancer treatment.

Dixon and I had exchanged our normal street clothes for black tactical gear, considering that we were trudging around in the sewer system and would soon be hacking into the surveillance system for a maximum-security prison. Besides that, neither one of us really wanted to have to sit around on a flight back to Los Angeles in clothes we'd worn through the sewer.

It was kind of a long walk, especially considering the darkness and the smell, but eventually Dixon pointed out that we should be getting close to the junction box. Jack had arranged our gear, of course, which came complete with transmitters that would allow us to reach APO. It was much easier than having to dig out the cell phone all the time.

"Merlin, you there?" I questioned, clicking my transmitter on.

"Yeah, Vaughn, go ahead," Marshall replied. I just shook my head at the way he continued to call people by their actual names over the com, rather than using call signs.

"We're about seventy meters in, still no sign of the junction box," I replied.

"You're almost directly under the switch room," Marshall replied, obviously calculating the distance easily and translating it onto the blueprint he had. "You should be close."

"Got it," Dixon said, seeing it against the left-hand wall. He headed for it, leaving me to set up the computer so we could see what was going on as well. "It's a standard IPX-node."

"Good," Marshall replied. "You should be able to splice the line and access the surveillance feeds."

"Doing that now," Dixon replied, pulling the box open with a screwdriver.

"Do it quickly," Jack added. "I don't like the idea of Sydney being in a maximum-security prison with _Sark _as her backup."

"Understood," Dixon agreed. I just nodded a little. As long as he thought she was Anna, and still believed she was the only one that could get to what they were after, she was at least safe from him. Of course, that didn't account for the _rest _of the things that could go wrong in there. "All right. We should be tied in now." I accessed the feed, seeing several images pop up.

"Yeah, we're hot," I stated. "You getting a picture?" I asked Jack and Marshall.

"Copy, it's coming through. See if you can isolate the women's block," I heard Jack instruct Marshall.

"Wait a minute, is that… Was that the women's showers?" I heard Marshall ask a second later. "No, that-that's men. Definitely men." I just shook my head a little. Finally, the image of Sydney popped up on the screen.

"There she is," I said quickly, not wanting Marshall to bypass it on accident.

"Wait a minute, she's in isolation," Marshall said after a moment. "You think that's part of the plan?"

"I sure hope so," Jack replied.

"Maybe they're waiting for something?" Dixon wondered aloud, looking at the feed over my shoulder.

"Maybe," I agreed.

"They've got to be. If they're here looking for something, Sydney wouldn't just be sitting there," Jack said after a moment.

"No, she's got to be waiting for Sark to do something," I said, watching the feed closely. I was beginning to wonder if this really _was _all part of the plan. Was Sark even here to begin with?

Suddenly, the feed fuzzed out.

"Marshall, what happened?" Jack asked before either Dixon or I could voice the same concern.

"Did we lose the signal?" I questioned.

"I don't know, everything just went wacky, we've been kicked out," Marshall replied, typing rapidly again to try and regain the tap into the feed. "It's like somebody else is trying to hack into the system."

"Sark," Jack stated.

"Is there any way to regain our tap?" I questioned. "We have to keep track of her!"

"Well, you could look for the alarm lines and then try to cross-wire them and get it on x-signal," Marshall suggested.

"You know what he's talking about?" I asked, looking over at Dixon who had already returned to the junction box.

"Fifty percent," he replied.

"You just have to be careful not to short-circuit the alarm wire, or the entire place could go into lockdown. Worst case scenario, cross the wrong wires and they'll know you're there," Marshall replied.

"Which wires am I looking for?" Dixon questioned.

"There should be two of them, both running out of the central power supply and connecting to different nodes on the circuit board," Marshall replied. "Unless it's customized, which we'll have to hope it's not."

"I've got them," Dixon replied. "Both gray, smaller, connecting to what look like T-1 access points."

"Okay, good, that's them," Marshall replied. "Basically, you have to cross-wire one of them with the main surveillance feed, which we already spliced so that's gonna be a little tricky."

"Which one?" I asked, glancing back to the fuzzed out picture before returning my attention to what Dixon was doing.

"Uh, well, I… I don't know," Marshall replied. "Obviously whichever line is running off a higher bandwidth is gonna be the one that would _trigger _the alarms. But, I can't see them, so I can't tell you which one it would be."

"Here," I said, getting to my feet and handing Dixon the cell phone. "Snap a picture of the lines and send it to APO. Will that work?"

"Yeah, that'll work," Marshall agreed. Dixon took the phone, quickly taking a picture of each line and sending them to Marshall. I heard him slide over to a different terminal, accessing his e-mail where Dixon sent them. "Okay, I've got them. It looks like the first one, the one on the left. That's the one you want to use."

"Are you sure?" Dixon questioned.

"Yeah – the port that it's plugged into is a basic modem bandwidth, and the other one is running off a T-1," Marshall answered. Dixon pulled the one on the left, waiting for a moment to see if any alarms really did go off. Finally, he cut the end of the wire, splicing it into the surveillance feed.

"Picture's back," Jack replied. "Good thinking."

"Let's just hope we can find her again," I said, going back to the computer. Dixon joined me a moment later, relieved that it had worked. Marshall clicked through to the isolation ward again, finding the room where Sydney had been before.

"She's not there," Dixon observed. "Sark must've triggered the doors."

"Keep going," I told Marshall. He started moving through the system again, scanning for any sign of Sydney. Dixon grabbed his cell phone, saying something about trying to get a contact in Rome that might be able to bail Sydney out if we couldn't find her.

"She could be somewhere that there aren't any cameras," Marshall said after a moment, continuing to cycle through the images. We were back at the beginning now, and still hadn't seen her. "I mean… There are places like that in prisons, right?"

"Nowhere pleasant," Jack replied gravely. Suddenly, the feed switched to an image of one of the lower-level stairwells. I saw Sydney run into the frame, heading up the stairs.

"Dixon, I got her!" I shouted over my shoulder.

"I'll call you back," he said, hanging up the phone and coming over by the computer. "Looks like she's heading back to the women's block."

"She must've gotten what she came for," I replied. "Maybe she's headed for extraction." _Okay, this might work out after all…_

The doors opened on the upper level again, letting Sydney back into the isolation ward. She ran to her room, where the door was already open. Marshall switched the feed to show that camera.

Sloane was waiting there for her.

_Dammit, I should've known! That son of a bitch is in on this!_

He got to his feet, saying something to her. Of course, there was no audio on the feed, so we didn't know what was going on. Sydney shook her head, backing up and trying to get out of the room.

Suddenly, he pulled something out of his pocket. He lunged at Sydney. She flinched, falling over onto the cot. It took me a second to realize it was a taser.

"Did she blow her cover?" Dixon asked, surprised.

"Either way, we have to get up there, _now_," I replied. Sloane closed in on her a moment later, before she could even really sit up, locking his hands around her throat. "Marshall, talk to me!"

"There's a grate to the isolation ward, about thirty yards ahead of you." I shot to my feet, nearly knocking the laptop into the water in the process, and ran for the grate.

"You'll never make it in time, we need to distract Sloane!" I heard Dixon shout behind me. _I'll be _damned _if I don't make it._

I heard Jack saying something about the security controls, and I heard the alarms going off a second later. I climbed up the ladder, pushing the heavy grate aside and climbing up into the prison.

One of the guards spotted me almost immediately. Luckily, I caught him off-balance and a couple of good hits knocked him to the floor. I took off running, already knowing right where I was headed. I could hear fighting inside, hoping that Sydney was fighting Sloane off and we'd get the chance to either arrest or kill the bastard.

I drew my gun, stepping into the room. Sydney was fighting one of the guards off, and Sloane was nowhere to be seen. I shot the guard in the back, and he dropped to the ground. Sydney looked relieved to see me.

"You okay?" I asked her.

"Yeah," she said after a moment. "Let's get out of here."

OOOOO

The flight back was relatively uneventful. Sydney explained about the amulet that The Rose – apparently someone who knew of Rambaldi – was told to give to her. She said that, from the way he spoke, Rambaldi himself had told this man to give her the amulet. Dixon and I both agreed that it sounded ridiculous, but she seemed shaken. Dixon wandered off eventually, leaving the two of us alone.

"What's wrong?" I asked her. She shook her head a little, keeping her gaze locked out the window.

"He made me wonder," she replied vaguely. I waited for a moment, knowing that she would continue when she felt up to it. Finally, she looked at me. "The Rose. He said that, in the end, it's all just fate. That there's nothing I can do to stop them."

"Who? Sloane?" I questioned. She nodded a little, tears springing to her eyes.

"You were right about him," she finally said. "I shouldn't have trusted him, I shouldn't have believed him when he said he'd changed. I should have known better."

"You thought he had," I told her. "So did Nadia."

"She was right," she answered. "I convinced her to go back to him, and…" She shook her head, looking away again for a moment. When she turned her gaze back to me, I could see the pain in her eyes. "Vaughn, he killed her."

"_What_?" She nodded.

"He killed her. APO found her body the night we went to Ghana," she explained. "Her funeral was the day before Germany."

"God, Syd, why didn't you _say _something?" I questioned. She shook her head, wiping away tears.

"I don't know," she replied. "I guess I just… I felt so _foolish _for believing his lies. I felt like, after all that time he'd spent lying to me about SD-6 and about Il Dire and about Rambaldi… I should have been able to see through it this time."

"It's not your fault," I told her seriously. She nodded a little, but I could tell she wasn't sure whether she believed me or not.

"What if this whole thing was right?" she questioned. "What if Rambaldi was right? About everything?"

"Sydney, we know that's not true," I told her again.

"Not really!" she protested. "I mean, 'the passenger and the chosen one will battle and only one will survive'? Nadia is _dead_ because of Sloane. I mean, that prophecy _never _said that we were going to battle each other. Everyone just assumed that was what it meant. What if it meant Sloane?"

"Is that what this guy told you? The Rose?" I questioned, keeping my voice quiet despite her outburst.

"No," she replied, shaking her head. "He said that the amulet was the beginning."

"The beginning of what?"

"Of the end of nature," she answered. "He said 'stars will fall from the sky and it will be the end of light'. I asked how to stop them from getting it, how to _stop _this from happening, and you know what he told me?"

"What?"

"He told me I _can't._"


	26. Chapter 26

**Disclaimer: **same

**A/N: **Thanks for the reviews and here's chapter 26! Also, I just wanted to apologize if the last chapter was a little confusing. I wanted to create this moment with Syd and Vaughn where she admitted that he was right not to trust Sloane. In order to do that, I didn't say anything about Nadia's death until much later than I probably should have. I also didn't mean to imply that Syd didn't get to go to the funeral. From her POV, she would have gone to Ghana, come back and found Vaughn's note, then gone to the funeral and started worrying like a day or so after that about where he was. Anyway, sorry for the confusion and enjoy chapter 26!

OOOOO

Based on all of the information in the bunker in Germany, we were able to weed out the names of The Twelve. We didn't have a whole lot of information on them – just a couple of aliases and their actual names. In order to really be able to track them, we would need pictures.

So, Jack dispatched the whole team. He used Echelon to find as many of them as he could, figuring that we could catch up with the others once we had something to start with. It was a bit of a gamble sending everyone out without backup, but we had to track these people as fast as we could. Everyone understood that, the moment they knew we were onto them, they'd disappear.

I was in London, tracking a man named Harold Coburn. He was older, just like I assumed most of them would be. After all, this organization had been around for a good thirty years, and it seemed that most of the same people were still in charge. I supposed it was easier that way – everyone knew everyone else's game face.

As per Jack's warning, I was staying as far away as I could from the actual members of Prophet Five. Just going out in the field alone was dangerous enough, but after the incident in Ghana, we'd all decided that it would be easier this way. At least then I wouldn't get so restless and tempted to go off on my own again.

I could see Coburn on the street below me. I'd taken up position on the roof of an office building across the street, using a large camera to look down at the entrance to the restaurant where he was meeting one of his contacts. Jack had stressed the point that we needed the clearest shots possible if we were going to get any kind of surveillance posted on these people. They were so secretive we would need the best images we could get.

Unfortunately, my hesitation gave a large truck the perfect opportunity to pull up right in the way, blocking my view.

"Dammit," I said under my breath, thinking for a moment. It had taken almost a week and a half just to track down this one meeting – I didn't know if there would be another opportunity to get this shot.

"What is it?" Jack asked over the com. He was in Washington, keeping an open channel to everyone in case there was some kind of a problem.

"There's a truck in the way," I replied, already on my feet. "I've got an idea."

"Make sure he doesn't see you," Jack warned.

"Got it," I replied, holding the camera under my arm as I ran down the stairs to the street level. I stepped outside, pulling the hood of my jacket up over my head. I draped my big coat, which I'd taken off earlier when it finally stopped raining, over my arm to obscure the camera.

I quickly circled around the truck, praying that Coburn and his contact hadn't gotten inside the building yet. To my relief, he was still standing on the sidewalk. I turned my face away, looking down at the ground and praying he was more focused on his conversation. As I walked past, I pressed the shutter button down several times, snapping five or six pictures of Coburn.

"Visuals acquired."

OOOOO

"Did we get everything?" I asked Sydney as she stepped out of her father's office. He had a large board against the far wall, displaying the pictures and names of all of the members of The Twelve. In addition to that, we had all the important information about their aliases and contact protocols, as well as property holdings and anything else we could find tied to any of those names. Compared to what we had this time nine months ago, we had a wealth of information on that wall.

"We have all twelve pictures," she replied with a nod. "Marshall's already fed them into the database. We'll start getting hits any minute."

"Good," I said, also nodding. I smiled at her a little. "Your dad told me about Australia." She smiled at that.

"Hey, it worked, right?" she questioned. She'd accidentally blown her cover in an attempt to get photos of the last two members of Prophet Five, and ended up having to run to the roof of a very exclusive hotel and then jump off, getting the pictures through the window.

"We're all meeting in the conference room," Jack interrupted, walking past Sydney and I towards the large room at the other end of the office. I could see Tom and Rachel and Dixon already heading that way, and it looked like Marshall was already there.

I followed Sydney into the conference room, taking a seat beside her. Jack circled around to the head of the table, waiting for a moment before beginning the briefing.

"Now that we know who The Twelve are, we've been able to fill in details. None of which are reassuring. Between them, these people wield an enormous amount of power," Jack began, nodding to the images on the computer screens at the back of the room as he spoke. "Their global reach is, well, global."

"Well, we know who they are now," Tom started. "Why don't we just take them in?"

"Unfortunately, it's not that simple," Jack continued. "When we make a move against Prophet Five, it needs to be the right one."

"We need to arrest them simultaneously to avoid tipping them off," Dixon added.

"Marshall, we need a program to track their movements," Jack stated, turning his attention to Marshall. "I want you to input the visuals and data we have on The Twelve. Cross-reference everything with international databases."

"Okay, well, sure, that should just… Take me a lifetime," Marshall shot back, somewhat sarcastically. "I mean, that's really, uh…"Jack looked at him, letting him know he was in no mood for jokes. "No problem. I'll get right on that." He got up and hurried out of the room.

"What about Sloane?" Sydney questioned. After what happened to Nadia, she was even more hell-bent on bringing him down than she had been during her days with SD-6.

"For now, we're under the assumption that he's working for The Twelve," Jack replied, his voice softening somewhat when he spoke to his daughter. "We take them down, we get to him."

OOOOO

We couldn't make a whole lot of progress until Marshall finished his computer program to track each of the members of Prophet Five. Once we had that, it would be a lot easier to determine the next move to make. Jack had everyone running as much data as they could, finally sending everyone home a little after eight that night.

After the chaos of the last couple of weeks, I was anxious to finally get some sleep. However, I woke up after just a few hours, getting the sense that something was off. I sat up, seeing Sydney at the far side of the bedroom. She had the desk lamp on, and papers spread all over the surface.

"Hey," I said, getting up and going over to the desk.

"Hey," she replied, glancing back at me and immediately returning her attention to the papers on the desk. I grabbed the other chair, pulling it up beside the desk.

"You know, Isabelle's gonna be up in, like, two hours," I told her, glancing back at the clock.

"I can't sleep," she confessed. I looked at the papers she had spread out everywhere, finally realizing what she was looking at. They were copies of Rambaldi's prophecies. Page 47, some of the other things we'd discovered, as well as what little information she and Sark obtained from Italy.

"Yeah, I can see why," I replied. "This stuff would give anyone nightmares."

"I can't stop thinking about him," Sydney explained, looking back at the desk. "The Rose. The things he said. That no matter what I do, I can't stop whatever's about to happen."

"Well, consider the source," I replied. She glanced over at me curiously. "A prisoner in a maximum-security prison." Someone in that situation would tend to doubt someone else's ability to stop something horrible from happening.

"He recognized me," Sydney continued, shaking her head a little. "He knew who I was."

"Weird, yeah. Not really conclusive," I stated, trying to downplay her fears about what that man had told her. It had been bothering her ever since the mission to Italy, and it seemed that no matter how many times we went over this, she still wasn't sure everything was going to turn out all right.

"What if he's right?" she finally asked.

"He's not," I replied immediately.

"How can you say that?" I shrugged a little. "With everything we've seen…" I sighed, leaning over and picking up the copy of Page 47. Even though the text was written in code, I'd memorized the words all those years ago when we first found the manuscript.

"'This woman, without pretense' – that would be you – 'will have had her effect, never having seen the beauty of my sky behind Mount Subasio'… Wordy, and wrong," I finally said, setting the page down. "All this talk about prophecy and fate, you've dis-proven it. You climbed Mount Subasio, you saw the sky."

"It's not just that," Sydney said quietly. I could tell by the emotion in her voice that she was thinking about her sister.

"Sloane?" I questioned.

"I keep thinking about all the people he's killed," she said with a nod. "Including his own daughter. I know what it's like to grow up without a mom. I don't want that for Isabelle. She needs me."

_Yeah_, I agreed silently. _She's not the only one._

"Which is why we won't let that happen," I assured her. She looked up at me, serious.

"You promise?"

"I promise."

OOOOO

I headed into APO early, wanting the chance to get a head start on everything before everyone else got there. It was nice having everyone around and all, but sometimes it could get a little distracting. So, it was nice to be there in peace and quiet for once.

Sydney assured me she'd be in after a while, once she got Isabelle settled with Agent Rantz. I was looking forward to all of this finally being over, and even though neither of us had mentioned anything, I felt pretty sure that once Prophet Five and Sloane were out of the picture, we'd both be leaving the agency for good.

"Jack just called." I glanced up, seeing that Tom had just come in. "Marshall's missing."

"What do you mean, missing?" I questioned. Tom shrugged a little.

"I guess he just vanished last night. His wife said he went to check on their son and was just… Gone," Tom continued.

"Someone grabbed him," I inferred. Tom nodded.

"Looks like," he replied. "And Rachel, too. I went over to her place last night, to check on something with one of these Prophet Five guys. Door was wide open. Wallet, keys, everything was just sitting on the coffee table."

"Jack thinks it's Prophet Five?" I questioned.

"Them or Sloane," Tom agreed with a nod. "He wanted someone to try and access Marshall's computer system – see if he finished the program to track Prophet Five. Maybe that might give us an answer. I'm no good with the computer stuff, so…"

"Yeah, I'll take a look at it," I agreed.

"Thanks." Tom tried to smile a little before heading off to his desk. I could tell by the stress in his voice that he was worried about Rachel, but I didn't want to press it. I closed the file I was working on, going into Marshall's office.

Of course, thanks to everything that had already gone wrong with APO's network and computer systems, Marshall had dozens of passwords on everything. I was able to get into the main system fairly easily, but couldn't access any of his files.

I tried practically everything I could think of. Names, dates, places, events, old missions… Nothing worked. Every time I typed something in, an 'incorrect password' message would flash on the screen. I sighed in annoyance, shaking my head.

"Okay," I said under my breath. "If you were Marshall, what would you type?" Of course, as soon as I said it I realized that was hopeless as well. With his knowledge of computers and technical components, as well as his photographic memory that seemed to encompass everything he'd learned or read or saw since the third grade, it could very well be _anything_.

I glanced up when the office door opened. Sydney entered with Marshall's wife, Carrie. I imagined she'd been the one to call Jack in the middle of the night and explain what had happened.

"Wow," Carrie said, nodding a little when she saw me. "Okay, so does everyone work here and _no one _was gonna tell me anything?" Like the rest of the people working at APO, Marshall had been ordered to keep his continued affiliation with the CIA a secret, even from his wife. Obviously, Sydney had explained that Marshall wasn't really a video game designer before they came here.

"It's complicated," Sydney replied.

"Anyway, what… What can I do?" Carrie asked, shaking her head a little and trying to focus on the problem at hand. She seemed almost panicked about Marshall's disappearance, and I couldn't honestly blame her.

"Marshall wrote a program to track the movements of The Twelve, and I ran it through our standard decryption program, but he's got so many security protocols," I replied, shaking my head a little.

"Can I…?" Carrie asked, gesturing to the computer.

"Sure," I replied, getting to my feet and moving out of the way. She took a seat, looking at the screen for a few moments before she began typing. Moments later, the program was open and running.

"You're in," she stated.

"What was it?" Sydney questioned.

"Moon glum of elwer," Carrie replied with a smile.

"Well, that was my _next_ guess," I said sarcastically, silently wondering where Marshall came _up _with this stuff.

"He's re-reading all his favorite books," Carrie explained. "To get ready for when Mitchell starts reading?" Her eyes teared up at that, and she tried to focus again. "Anyway, so what else can I do?"


	27. Chapter 27

**Disclaimer: **same

**A/N: **Sorry again for the lateness of the update! Stupid website won't let me upload any documents. I was going to do 27 and 28, but now it won't let me upload 28. Grr. Well, at least I got 27 in (after sitting here hitting the buttons for an hour) so enjoy chapter 27!

OOOOO

Sydney had to leave an hour or so later to take Isabelle to a brief doctor's appointment – standard pediatrician stuff, she assured me – leaving me at APO to try and help Carrie track Marshall. I could tell she was worried about him. I didn't blame her. Marshall was an essential part of the team.

Carrie was still running checks on the system, trying to clean up some of the algorithms to track the movements of The Twelve, when my cell phone rang. I noticed immediately that it was Sydney, getting to my feet and moving to the back of the room.

"Hey. What's up?" I questioned.

"I just talked to Marshall," she stated.

"What? What's going on?"

"Sloane's trying to get him to cooperate," she continued. "He's all right, but he mentioned something about the 'Littlest Fish'. I was trying to get him to give me something to go on – some way to track him. Tell Carrie, see what she knows."

"Okay," I replied, hanging up. I knew there was more to the story than she was letting on, but I would have to wait until she got back to APO to hear just what had happened. I returned my attention to Carrie. "That was Sydney. She just got off the phone with Marshall."

"What?" Carrie asked, looking both shocked and hopeful. I could understand – she'd spent most of the morning wondering whether or not her husband was even still alive.

"He's fine. I'll explain later," I said. "He passed on a message for you. He said he'd finish reading Mitchell the Littlest Fish when he got home. He's trying to tell you something."

"We haven't read him that book in at least a year," Carrie replied, looking somewhat confused.

"What's it about?" I questioned.

"It's about a goldfish, and some boy who's his friend?" she asked, shaking her head a little. She thought for a moment, trying to figure out why Marshall was talking about that particular book. "Um… Oh, god, his name is Niles. No! Um, Noah." Her eyes widened. "NOAA. National Oceanic and Atmospheric Administration. They monitor weather patterns, ecosystems…"

"Using a state-of-the-art satellite network. Maybe Sloane's trying to get them to hack in."

"I can set up some trip-wires to monitor the hack. If I can detect them, I can pinpoint their location!" she exclaimed excitedly, turning back to the computer to start working.

"Well, whatever Sloane's making them do, it's happening now."

"I'll be fast." She typed for a minute, several different screens flashing past on the monitor. "The firewall's flagging an insane amount of network activity. Someone's sending out signatures." She smiled. "It-it's Marshall! He's intentionally triggering the network security protocols!"

"Can you trace the location?" I questioned. She nodded, continuing to type until another screen appeared. Jack stepped into the room, seeing that we were onto something and looking at the screen.

"I'm narrowing it down," she stated. "Mexico. They're in Ixtapa." She turned to face me, glancing up at Jack.

"I'll assemble a rescue team immediately," he said.

OOOOO

Sydney returned to APO just in time to end up on the team with Tom, Dixon and I. The flight to Mexico was rather short, considering we didn't have that far to go. Carrie explained from back in Los Angeles that there would have to be a warehouse or a bunker of some kind that they were in, and gave us the general vicinity of the activity she logged on the network. Lucky for us, it didn't take long to find.

"Okay. We'll split up. One team heads straight for the center rooms, to look for Marshall and Rachel. The other will head in the back entrance and look for any sign of Sloane or his associates," Dixon explained. "Tom?"

"He'll go with me – we'll find them," Sydney interrupted before Dixon could ask Tom to go with him. Tom looked to Sydney, nodding after a moment. He was worried about Rachel, and it made more sense to let him go and look for her rather than trying to focus looking around for Sloane.

"All right," Dixon agreed, not wanting to argue. "Let's go," he said to me, leading the way around the back of the building. We had our weapons at-the-ready, just in case we actually happened to run into Sark or Sloane. I didn't know if Sloane already had what he wanted, and decided against bringing up that idea on the way here.

After all, if he had what he wanted, there was a good chance Marshall and Rachel were already dead.

Dixon and I quickly searched several of the rooms towards the back of the facility. It looked abandoned – there wasn't anyone around. I had only seen one car outside, and assumed that was security detail. Sloane was already long gone.

"You think he got what he was after?" Dixon asked me, echoing my earlier thoughts. I shrugged a little, continuing to look around some of the empty rooms and down the next corridor. Even if Sloane was gone, I didn't want to get surprised by some bodyguard.

"Maybe," I replied.

"Could he have found the tracing signal?" Dixon asked.

"Carrie said there wasn't one – she just followed one of Marshall's pings on the network," I explained. Dixon nodded a little, but still didn't seem entirely convinced. Suddenly, there was a gunshot from the far side of the facility. I turned back to look at Dixon, who already had his gun poised.

"Phoenix, do you read?" he asked, trying to contact Sydney. "Who's shooting?"

"There was a guard," Sydney replied, sounding somewhat out of breath. "He's down. Marshall and Rachel are here, they're all right."

"We're coming to you," Dixon replied, sounding relieved. She and Tom were just emerging from one of the central rooms with Marshall and Rachel – who both looked a little worse for wear – when Dixon and I caught up.

"We checked the entire facility," I explained. "There's no sign of Sloane."

OOOOO

Considering we'd already lost Sloane, heading back to APO was out of the question. We had to figure out where he was planning to go, and catch up as soon as possible. We found a small office in the facility, trying to get settled down for the moment and figure out where Sloane had gone.

"Right? And then, I told him that he better move to my thumb, the hangnail? He didn't think Flinkman had it in him," Marshall was explaining with a smile, telling Dixon and I all about how he'd stood up to Sloane's attempts at torture. "And, you know, he's such a… Jerk."

"I could think of some other words," Tom threw in.

"You said you were mapping caves in Italy," Sydney said to Rachel, ignoring Marshall's banter for the moment. "Do you have the coordinates?"

"Yeah," Rachel said with a nod.

"That's the other thing," Marshall added. "We spent _hours _hacking into the system and then as soon as he gets what he wants, he's all cryptic and all, 'I should have known'. I mean, what is _that _about?"

"He should have known…?" Sydney questioned.

"Yeah. That's what he said," Marshall replied with a nod. Sydney glanced at me, and I could tell we were both already thinking the same thing. _Cave systems in Italy that have something to do with mountains, maybe?_

"Where in Italy – what region?" she asked Rachel.

"Umbria," she replied. I just shook my head. _Well, that figures._

"Mount Subasio," Sydney stated, already knowing where Sloane had gone. I nodded a little in agreement. "Dad's team will take care of The Twelve in Zurich. But if they're after something at Mount Subasio, I'm gonna beat them to it."

"Sydney…" I started, not getting the chance to finish.

"You were right, Vaughn," she said. "I can't give in to this idea that I'm powerless. I can bring them down."

"I know," I assured her. "I was just gonna say, I'll go with you." She smiled a little, nodding in agreement.

OOOOO

Before I knew it, Sydney and I were on a plane to Italy. Getting to the top of Mount Subasio was a little different this time, considering the wind and the snow, and the fact that it wasn't even sunrise there yet. Still, Sydney was determined to find whatever was here and keep it away from Sloane.

So, the two of us loaded up enough gear to get up the mountain, climbing to where we could access one of the cave systems. Because of the snow and ice, we couldn't just walk in the normal way, and had to climb almost to the top and then drop into the cavern. Sydney insisted that she would go down, find whatever Sloane was looking for, and bring it right back. I would have to stay outside the cavern and wait for her signal, then pull her back up.

"Vaughn! Over here!" she called out. I followed her over to where there was a small opening in the ice, looking down into the blackness below. "You'll have to lower me."

"Are you sure about this?" I questioned, still trying to come up with a different plan that would allow me to be there as backup, just in case Sloane was already here.

"Yeah. I am," she replied, nodding. I knew arguing with her was pointless, so instead I opted to get the gear set up. I set my pack down beside the crevice, pulling out a long rope and a harness, handing them to Sydney. I attached the rope to a large pulley system, latching it in as Sydney strung the other side through her harness. I pulled out a small GPS unit, turning it on and switching the signal to a small beacon Sydney had attached to her harness.

"I'll be tracking you," I told her. She nodded, knowing that I hated the idea of being stuck up here, helpless. She leaned close, kissing me briefly before taking hold of the rope and setting up against the edge of the crevice.

I lowered her down, knowing it was a good eighty or ninety feet to the cavern floor. I glanced at the GPS every couple of seconds, keeping an eye on the tracking beacon. Finally, the rope started to go slack, and I realized she was on the ground.

"Be careful, Syd," I said quietly, knowing she couldn't hear me but hoping she'd listen. Several moments passed. I could see the small blinking light on the GPS moving further into the cavern, finally stopping.

Whatever Sloane was looking for, I hoped it was something we could get out of there. Judging by Sloane's actions, he seemed to think we were nearing the end of this pursuit of Rambaldi. In a way, I hoped we were. The sooner this was all over, the better.

For a long moment, Sydney didn't move. I tried to glance down into the cavern, but couldn't see anything. The sky was starting to lighten, and sunrise would be here any moment.

Despite my curiosity at what could be going on down there, I waited. If Sydney had to get out of the cavern in a hurry, I would have to be ready. I couldn't follow her down, which made me nervous. The beacon on the GPS still wasn't moving.

I glanced up at the skyline again. The sun was just starting to rise.

Suddenly, there was a muffled sound from below. I couldn't tell what it was, and was about to try and call out to Sydney when half the cave started to collapse. The hole in front of me grew wider, gaping open and revealing a deep hole in the mountain. It took me a second to realize that most of the cave wasn't even made of rock, but just of snow and ice.

I glanced back at the beacon. It dropped towards the bottom of the screen, and then vanished.

"Dammit!" I swore, grabbing a second length of rope and hooking it up to my own harness. I had no idea what had happened, but I knew Sydney had fallen when the ice collapsed. She was now a good two hundred and fifty some feet down inside the mountain.

And I was pretty sure the sound I heard was a gunshot.

Sloane was already here.

I knew it was risky to go down after her, especially if Sloane was just waiting around to shoot me as well, but I had no idea if she was all right. I had to find her and get both of us out of here.

I wasn't about to break my promise this time.

Finally, I heard her cell phone ringing. I glanced down over my shoulder, seeing her half-buried in the snow at the bottom of the cavern. At first, it looked like she had just been knocked unconscious by the fall.

Then I saw the blood.

There was a gash in the side of her throat, several inches long. On top of that, it didn't look like she was breathing. I swore again, wishing the pulley would allow me to go faster. After what seemed like an eternity, I hit the ground. I detached the rope, going to her side and dropping to my knees in the snow.

"Sydney? _Sydney_!" I held up a hand in front of her face. No breath. I leaned down, counting out loud as I did CPR. "Come on, breathe!" I put my lips over hers, trying to ignore the fact that they were just as cold as the surrounding ice, breathing into her lungs.

Several moments passed without any result. I glanced at the gash in her neck, clenching my jaw and refusing to give up.

"Come on, Syd – you're stronger than this!" I told her, breathing for her again. _We're in this together, remember? We started this together, and we are _damn well _going to finish it that way!_

She coughed suddenly. I sat back, watching as she coughed and struggled to get a breath for a moment. She winced at the pain in her throat, either from the lack of air or the large wound – or both – but eventually started to breathe more normally.

"It's okay, you're okay," I assured her, trying to keep her from sitting up until I could get a better look at the gash in her throat. "Everything's gonna be okay."


	28. Chapter 28

**Disclaimer: **same

**A/N: **Yay! It let me update! Hee! Thanks for the reviews everyone and enjoy Chapter 28!

OOOOO

With some work and a lot of luck, I was able to get Sydney and I out of the cavern using the GPS. Thanks to the collapse that Sloane's shooting caused, there was an opening much closer to the ground, so we didn't have to try and climb all the way back up the hard way.

We got to a small safe house a few miles away. Sydney explained that Sloane was already there when we arrived, and that he had the amulet from La Fossa with him. She said the sun exposed some kind of a code or something, but she didn't get to see. Sloane shot at the snow she stood on, dropping her into the cavern below.

She was upset that she hadn't been able to stop him. I'd even heard her mutter something about the prophecy again – something about how she didn't get to see the sky, just like Rambaldi said. I tried to assure her that it didn't mean anything, but it seemed that – if anything – this failed mission just proved her fear about being powerless.

Currently, she was sitting over by the window, watching the snow. She was curled up in a blanket with a mug of tea, trying to warm up after the ordeal in the cavern. I left her alone for the moment, knowing there wasn't much I could say to help her, and called Jack.

"Bristow," he answered.

"It's me," I replied. "We're in Siena."

"So Sydney's with you?" he asked.

"Yeah. We're both okay," I stated.

"Thank god," I heard Dixon say, realizing I was on speakerphone.

"We have a situation here," Jack started after a moment. "Home base has been compromised. Tom didn't make it." I sighed, shaking my head in disbelief. Sloane had taken out APO. "Stay at the safe house. Once we gather some more information, we'll forward it to you there."

"Got it," I replied.

"Vaughn? How is she?" Jack questioned.

"She took a pretty big hit, but she'll bounce back," I said after a moment, glancing over at Sydney as I spoke.

"We'll contact you once we know something," Jack said.

"Okay."

OOOOO

A few hours passed before Sydney stood and came into the center of the room. I'd gotten a computer set up and covered the table with whatever information we had. Jack had already sent some information, explaining that at the same time Sloane launched the attack on APO, Peyton had met with Prophet Five in Zurich. Instead of giving them the amulet from La Fossa, she'd gunned down every last one of them.

So, now we were just dealing with Sloane.

I wished that wasn't such a scary thought.

"Hey." I glanced up, smiling a little at Sydney as she took a seat. I'd already explained what happened to APO and Prophet Five, as well as the fact that Tom was dead. According to Jack, he was the only casualty they knew of, which was surprising given APO's location, but that still didn't help the fact that we'd lost one of our own.

"Hey," I replied, sighing and rubbing my eyes tiredly.

"Are we getting anywhere?" she asked, taking some of the papers from one of the stacks I'd made and looking them over.

"Not really. Jack sent over a bunch of data on some missile theft, but…" I shrugged a little.

"'Twelve hours ago, two inter-continental cruise missiles were stolen from a storage facility in Moscow'," Sydney read off of one of the sheets.

"We think it's Sloane?" I asked, not really seeing the relevance. If he was after Rambaldi and whatever he was working on, why suddenly take a detour to Moscow to steal missiles?

"Whatever he's up to, he said it was too late to be stopped," Sydney replied, shaking her head a little.

"He also said that he'd wipe out everyone at APO. He was wrong," I reminded her.

"Still, how can we find him?" she asked. "It's impossible. We don't have a single lead. We can't trust the CIA…"

"Sydney, stop," I interrupted. "Let's not overlook the fact that you basically _died _today. You and I have gotten pretty good at 'impossible'." She just shrugged a little, not convinced. I sighed, deciding maybe changing the subject would help. "Okay, we have to deal with this wound. I don't have any anesthetic, it's gonna hurt." She nodded a little, moving closer and taking the bandage off her neck. I winced at the sight of the gash. "Just hold still." I started trying to stitch up her neck as painlessly as possible, apologizing whenever I saw her wince.

"Why would Sloane _steal _the missiles?" she asked suddenly.

"What?" I asked.

"He just wiped out The Twelve, right? Which means that he controls their assets. He wouldn't steal missiles, he'd just buy them on the black market," she continued. Finally, she looked over at me. "I think I know how to find him.

"We start with the money. If we can hack into the system, we can ID who the payoffs went to. Then all we need are phone records. If I'm right, they'll lead us right to Sloane. Or, at least, someone he's been working with."

OOOOO

Sydney's idea turned out to be genius. Once I got a hold of Jack, Rachel was able to hack into Sloane's bank account information. She tracked the money that he used to buy the missiles in Moscow, tracing the payoff back to the source.

Which led us directly to Peyton.

Dixon and I met up en route, grabbing Peyton in Zurich and bringing her to a secure location in Los Angeles. Jack had made it a temporary 'base' for APO, considering that the offices had been completely destroyed. We met up with Sydney and Rachel, who had come along because she and Peyton used to work together. Jack figured that, if anyone knew what Peyton was afraid of, what tactics we could use to get to her quickly, it would be Rachel.

"You think she'll lead us to Sloane?" Dixon questioned. Sydney and Rachel had taken Peyton into one of the other rooms of the warehouse we were in, leaving Dixon and I outside to keep watch. Marshall was working on his computer, as usual. Jack was off somewhere else, probably still on the phone. He'd been calling contacts all day, trying to get any leads on Sloane.

"Hopefully," I replied with a nod.

"We're not getting anywhere like this," Jack said, approaching from the far hallway. "We'd better hope they find something soon." The door to the side room slid open, and Sydney and Rachel emerged.

"She has no idea where those missiles are," Sydney began.

"Are you sure?" Dixon questioned.

"Positive," Rachel said with a nod.

"What she _does _know is Sloane is planning to target two cities with high civilian concentrations," Sydney continued.

"He's not interested in the devastation, he plans to profit off the reconstruction. Sloane controls Prophet Five's network. Communications, pharmaceuticals, finance – he'll make billions," Jack theorized.

"It gets worse," Sydney added. "Sloane's in Mongolia."

"Why Mongolia?" I questioned.

"Rambaldi," Rachel answered.

"According to what he told Peyton, Rambaldi's greatest work – the source of all of this – is there. Whatever it is he's been looking for the last thirty years, he believes it's there," Sydney finished.

"Then that's where we're going," Jack stated.

OOOOO

Sydney, Jack and I went to Mongolia to find Sloane. Dixon stayed to do what damage control he could in Los Angeles, as well as put off any inquiries by the CIA as to what we were doing. Sloane may have dismantled Prophet Five, but that didn't mean he didn't have assets in the Agency. _No one _could know we were going to Mongolia.

"According to the coordinates Peyton gave Sydney and Rachel, this is what we're looking at," Jack began, talking loudly to be heard over the roar of the helicopter engine. The there of us were on our way over the desert, hoping that Sloane hadn't already gotten whatever it was he came for.

The picture on Jack's computer screen showed a satellite view of the area we planned to land in. There were tents and desert vehicles scattered all over the place, several people patrolling the area with automatic rifles. At the center of all of this was a small, squat building, maybe ten or fifteen feet on each side.

On the top was the Eye of Rambaldi.

"That's where Sloane is," Sydney stated, nodding to the building.

"We'll land here," Jack continued, pointing to a small location just to the East of the camp. "Granted, they're going to hear our approach. This is going to be a rather messy operation."

"As long as we catch Sloane," I said. Jack nodded in agreement.

"Sydney, head for the structure," Jack said, turning his attention to his daughter. "Go after Sloane. Vaughn and I will cover you, and back you up inside once the surface level is secured."

"Okay," Sydney said with a nod. "Do we have any ground support?"

"Minimal," Jack answered. "Given the short notice and the scope of the operation here, there wasn't time to set anything up." Sydney nodded, returning her gaze to the computer screen. "We'll be landing shortly."

The helicopter dropped altitude, coming in as low as possible to avoid any anti-aircraft fire from the camp. The three of us jumped off just on the other side of a large hill, weapons readied, and headed for the camp.

Sydney fell easily into the lead position, keeping her head down and trying to find the easiest way to get to the structure in the center of the camp. I fell into place to her left, Jack to her right, eyes scanning the desert for any of the soldiers we'd seen from above.

"There!" Jack shouted. "Go!" Sydney took off running, and the roar of gunfire erupted. I heard Jack shooting at a couple of men off to the right, turning and taking three of them down to the left. There was another one over by one of the tents, and then another out in the open close to the building.

Luckily, with Jack and I shooting at them, they seemed distracted and less inclined to shoot at Sydney. I risked a glance in her direction, watching her shoot one of the guards by the structure and disappear inside. I shot another of the men, stopping when I heard the sound of a gun cocking behind me.

"Correct me if I'm wrong, Mister Vaughn," Sark's cocky tone stated from just behind me, "but aren't you supposed to be dead?" I turned to face him, seeing Jack approaching from the other direction. "I suppose we'll have to rectify that."

Jack appeared suddenly, raising his gun at Sark. Before Sark could lower his weapon, however, another guard came up behind Jack with a gun aimed at him. Jack looked over at me, realizing quickly that this would not end well if someone didn't lower his gun, and opted to drop his first.

"Well, then," Sark quipped. "It appears we have a predicament." He nodded to the guard, giving him the go-ahead to close in on Jack. Sark returned his gaze to me. "So, I assume Miss Bristow has already made her way inside?"

"With any luck, she's already killed your employer," Jack snapped. Sark turned to him, his mouth turning up in a cocky smirk.

"Now that, I very much doubt," Sark stated. "Shall we?" He gestured to the opening of the small structure with his gun. "You two first, if you wouldn't mind." I turned around, allowing Sark to direct Jack and I inside.

As we descended further into the structure, I could hear Sydney and Sloane's voices. It was obvious that Sydney had a hold of the artifact Sloane was here looking for – if it was indeed another artifact at all – and was holding him in a standoff.

"Give me one good reason why I shouldn't destroy this right now," she was saying.

"Suppose I were to give you two good reasons?" Sark asked as our 'group' rounded the corner. He still had his gun trained on me, and the other guard had his weapon pressed against Jack's shoulder. Sydney turned, her face falling when she saw us.

"Hand me the sphere, Sydney," Sloane stated. I glanced down, seeing that Sydney had a gun in one hand and what looked like Rambaldi's Sphere of Life in the other. It was filled with a thick red liquid. It took me a moment to realize that, in the center of the room, surrounding a small pedestal, there was a pool of that same liquid. "I'll let you all walk out of here." Sydney hesitated. "I won't insult you with pretense, Sydney, we know each other too well for that."

Sydney glanced over her shoulder at Jack and I, and then back at Sloane. I could tell what she was doing. She was sizing everyone up, trying to determine where she should place her first shot. Sloane was armed, but he was all the way across the room. Still, she didn't want him getting a hold of the sphere. If she fired at either Sark or the guard, there was a chance the other would get a shot off before she could kill them both. Was there a way to distract them, perhaps?

"Oh, I know you're trying to figure a way out," Sloane continued, evidently seeing the same thing I was. "Just hand over the sphere, and I will let you all walk away."

"If I give this to you," Sydney started, looking at the sphere in her hand, "what's to guarantee you won't shoot us anyway?"

"Despite what you may think, I'm not heartless," Sloane stated. _Yeah, that's a laugh_, I thought to myself, keeping my mouth shut. "Come on, take my offer. Frankly, I don't think you have any other option."

"If you want this, we'll walk out of here together, then we'll talk," Sydney tried again.

"Well, remember Sydney. It's your choice." Sloane raised his gun, and shots erupted. Jack stumbled back against the wall, several spots of blood appearing on his shirt.

I spun around, knocking Sark's hand away and trying to pry the gun from his grip. The other guard came at me as well, and I kicked out at his stomach, sending him stumbling back against the wall. Sark tried to kick at my other leg, missing when I twisted his arm around and threw him off balance.

He let go of the gun, dropping back and disengaging from our struggle. Unfortunately, I didn't get the chance to go for the weapon, as I had to fend off another attack from the guard. We traded blows for a moment, and I finally knocked him to the ground. I glanced over my shoulder, noting that Sark had disappeared.

There was another shot. I turned quickly, not sure who was firing now. To my surprise, it was Sydney. She had knelt down by her father, and had her gun trained on Sloane.

She emptied the majority of the clip into Sloane's chest. He stumbled, falling backwards into the pool of liquid on the floor. For a second, I almost expected him to just get up and keep fighting.

He didn't.

Sydney and I managed to get Jack to his feet and haul him out of the cavern to the surface. Whatever ground support Jack had arranged was there, chasing the guards off and creating adequate chaos for the three of us to go unnoticed. I wasn't sure where Sark had gone, but he had the Sphere of Life with him. Sydney had dropped it when her father was shot, and he must have picked it up before making his hasty retreat.

"Right here," Sydney said, nodding to a small hill. We moved to set Jack down. "You're okay, you're okay." I helped her lean him up against the ledge, hearing him wheeze and try to breathe.

"It's okay," I assured Sydney. "I'm gonna go call for help, okay?" She nodded, and I ran off to get to a higher spot where I could use the phone. I called Dixon. "We've got a problem. Jack's been shot."

"How bad?" Dixon questioned.

"It's critical, we need air support," I replied. I heard Dixon telling Marshall to reach one of his contacts to send a medivac unit, and to hurry. I could hear Marshall on a different line, speaking rapidly.

"Chopper's on it's way, should be a half hour," he said after a moment.

"Did you hear that?" Dixon asked.

"Yeah," I affirmed. I didn't say anything, but I knew there was no way in hell Jack had a half an hour to wait for a chopper. "Listen, Sloane's dead. Sark got away. He's got the artifact."

"I think we know where he's going," Dixon stated.

"Where?" I asked.

"Hong Kong," Dixon replied. "According to Peyton, Sloane has another ally there."

"Who?" I asked, although I already had a pretty good idea of his answer.

"Irina."

"We'll get there as soon as we can," I assured him, hanging up and returning to where Sydney and her father were. "Medivac's on its way. How's he doing?" I glanced down, seeing that Sydney had opened his shirt and was trying to slow the bleeding from the wounds in his chest.

"His heart rate's up," Sydney replied quietly. "I think the bullet penetrated his lung – he's not getting enough air."

"Syd… Sloane has a partner," I stated. I knew she would want to stay with her father and make sure that he was all right, but it was important to go after her mother, too. "We know who's behind this."

"It's not…?" I nodded.

"Yeah. Irina's in Hong Kong, preparing to strike as we speak," I explained.

"We have to stop her," Jack stated.

"Dad, you're not going anywhere," Sydney interrupted.

"Get the transport," Jack continued.

"Listen to me," Sydney started. "Dad, you have been shot in the chest. The medical team is on the way, we can't risk moving you, right?" Sydney looked up at me. I could see the fear in her eyes – fear that she knew what her father was saying.

"Vaughn," Jack said. "Get the transport ready." I just nodded, heading up to find Jack's contact. I told him we needed to go, and he handed me the keys to one of the vehicles. He explained that he also had some more weapons and some explosives, as he wasn't sure what all we might need.

Of course, there wasn't any medical equipment in the Jeep that would be of any use to Jack.

"I can hold out until help arrives, but you have to go," Jack was insisting as I pulled the Jeep up next to him and Sydney. "You have to stop your mother."

"Okay, just… Just, um… Keep applying pressure to these," Sydney replied, trying to be strong through her tears. I wished there was some other way to go about this, but I couldn't come up with anything. I hated feeling so useless, but there was _no _time. "You can't afford to lose more blood."

"Just get moving," Jack stated. She looked at him again.

"I love you, Dad," she choked out.

"I love you, Sydney," he replied. She started crying again, knowing that he was saying goodbye. Still, she got to her feet and came over to the Jeep. I helped her inside, getting back in the driver's seat and starting the engine.

I could see Jack in the rearview mirror. Despite his wounds, he got to his feet and watched the two of us drive away.


	29. Chapter 29

**Disclaimer:** same

**A/N:** Once again, I owe everyone the BIGGEST apology for not updating for so long. I got to the end of the last chapter and I literally hit a WALL. I was totally unsure how to end the story. Finally, I just sat down to write and it this is what came out. Anyway, I hope everyone is still sticking around for the ending. Sorry once again that it took me so long to write, and enjoy the last part of the story!!

OOOOO

Neither of us said much on the flight to Hong Kong. I spent most of the time trading phone calls with Dixon, trying to get a lock on Irina's exact location through Marshall and finding out what was going on with Jack. Much to Sydney's relief, the medical team made it to him in time.

Dixon had mentioned something about an explosion, but he didn't have all the details. With everything rapidly descending into chaos, and the lack of APO resources to keep track of anything that was happening, I could understand how difficult it was for Dixon to try and keep a handle on things. In a way, I was glad we were on the way to Hong Kong.

And then there was the other part of me that was completely terrified.

I had no idea what we might be walking into. Sydney and I were completely on our own on this one. Virtually all of APO's remaining resources were spent going into Mongolia after Sloane. Even if they _could _catch up, there was little chance they'd be able to do any good.

Sark was in Hong Kong. He'd taken the Sphere of Life with him, presumably to hand it over to Irina – it seemed as though he'd finally shown his true loyalty. I had no idea what was going to happen, but I felt sure it wasn't going to be anything good.

"Okay," Marshall said, drawing my attention back to the phone. Sydney and I had managed to hook it up to a small speakerphone device, but the sound quality definitely left a little something to be desired. "It looks like we've got a lock on the location."

"What about the missiles?" Sydney questioned.

"Primed and ready to launch, but they haven't given the go-ahead yet. You guys aren't that far behind Sark, and she must be waiting for him to get there before doing anything," Marshall explained. The crackling of the bad speaker almost drowned out the furious tapping of his fingers on a keyboard in the background.

"How close can we land to where they're at?" I questioned.

"Close enough," was Marshall's only reply.

"How are things there?" Sydney asked.

"Calm for now," Dixon replied. "I've been in contact with Langley. Standard evacuation procedures are all in place. They're ready to act should the launch take place."

"Good," Sydney replied.

"I just got off the phone with the hospital," Rachel threw in suddenly. "Syd, they said your father just came out of surgery. He'll be out of commission for a while, but he's going to be all right."

"Do they know anything about the explosion?" she questioned.

"No, not yet," Dixon answered.

"We're close!" the pilot hollered back to Sydney and I.

"I've already sent a transmission through, it'll show where you guys need to land to get close to Irina," Marshall explained.

"All right," I said with a nod. "Anything else?"

"Yeah," Dixon stated. "Good luck."

OOOOO

By the time we reached the building where Sark and Irina were running their operation, there was no time to take them out one-by-one. Both Sydney and I realized it was dangerous to go after Sark and Irina at the same time with no backup, but Marshall had called just before we got to the building to say that the missile launch sequence had already started. We had fifteen minutes before Washington and London were, for all intents and purposes, wiped clean off the face of the Earth.

"I'm going upstairs," Sydney insisted. "She'll be up there."

"All right," I said with a nod. We'd taken a few minutes to scope out the exterior of the building. There weren't many guards, which was good – we didn't have much in the way of ammunition. "The control room's probably on the ground floor. I'll look for Sark – try and get him to stop the launch."

"Okay." She turned to me, leaning in for a kiss and trying to smile bravely. "Meet me up there."

"Yeah," I agreed. She took off, heading around the side of the building. I went towards the back, hoping to find a relatively easy way in. Of course, it wasn't that simple – Irina wasn't going to go lax on defenses now, when she was so close to her endgame.

I stayed in the shadow that the sharp corners of the building offered me as long as I could, finally springing on one of the guards. Considering that surprise and a half-empty pistol were my only weapons, I was going to have to make each one count for what it could.

The startled guard swung the butt of his rifle at my head, but I ducked under it and drove him back against the wall. Unfortunately, that attracted the attention of a second guard from around the corner. I grabbed onto the first one's gun, wrenching it out of his grasp and snapping it into the other man's face.

The first guard got in a kick to my stomach, sending me stumbling back to the edge of the short stairway leading up to the back door. I spun out of the way of another blow, kicking at the back of his leg and sending him flying down the stairs.

I moved out of the way just in time to avoid a short burst of gunfire, closing the distance between myself and the second guard so that he couldn't get another shot off. I drove the butt of the rifle into his nose at a sharp upward angle, knocking him flat on his back. The back of his head hit the concrete walkway with a sickening crack.

By the time I'd regained my balance, the first man was up the stairs and had thrown himself over my back in an attempt to wrestle his gun out of my grip. I swung him to the side, trying to dislodge his hold on my neck. He kicked at my feet, almost succeeding in making me lose my balance.

Taking a little something from what I'd learned watching Sydney; I snapped the back of my head into his chin. He cried out, letting go immediately and falling to the ground. I brought the gun around and into his gut, slamming my elbow into his face. He fell down the stairs a second time, only this time he remained in an unconscious heap at the bottom.

I immediately turned my attention to the back door of the facility. I knew I didn't have time to waste fighting guards all evening, and hoped there weren't any more in my path to the control room where I was sure Sark would be waiting.

I used the rifle to shoot out the locks on the door, discarding it in favor of the smaller nine millimeter I had tucked into my jeans. Luckily, the control room was set up in a small office-looking area just off to the side of where I'd entered the building. Sark stood inside, speaking to someone via video conferencing on a computer monitor.

The first thing I could think of was to pull the cord I saw in the wall connecting several power strips to all of Sark's equipment. There was a low hum, and everything turned off. Before he could turn around to see what had happened, I came up beside him and hit him in the face with my gun.

I grabbed the back of his suit collar, slamming his face down into the desk. Once he was sufficiently disoriented, I threw him to the floor. His head hit one of the chairs, sending it sliding across the room. By the time he got his bearings and looked up at me, I had my gun leveled at his head.

"It appears we have a predicament," I stated.

"So it would seem," he replied, trying to catch his breath. I noticed that his nose was bleeding, wondering if I'd managed to break it again buy slamming his face into the desk.

"Give me the override codes," I said.

"I don't have the codes, I swear," Sark replied, holding his hands up and shaking his head a little. I knew there was a damn good chance he was lying, and I didn't have time for this crap.

I lowered the aim of my gun to his leg, taking aim for somewhere around the right knee, and fired. He cried out in surprise, both his hands immediately going to his leg to protect the wound. He looked up at me like I'd lost my mind.

"You shot me!" he cried.

"Yeah, and I'll keep shooting until you either give me the codes, or bleed to death. Your choice," I snapped.

"You know I didn't want any of this," Sark protested. "Mass extermination isn't exactly my passion, Michael." He grabbed onto a nearby desk to haul himself to his feet. I kept the gun leveled at him, just in case he tried anything. Shooting him before getting the override codes was definitely not a very good scenario, but I still had five rounds in the clip and there were several non-vital places I could think to shoot Sark.

"I'm a businessman, you know?" he continued, looking at me in disbelief. "I simply wanted to come out on the winning end." I pulled the hammer back on the gun. "I'll give you the codes, but you have to let me go after I do."

"The codes first, then we negotiate," I stated. Sark hesitated for a moment, finally realizing that he was in no position to call the shots in this particular situation. He nodded a little in acquiescence.

"All right," he replied. "But you've taken out my entire system, so I really don't see what good they'll do now."

"Just sit down and shut up," I said, gesturing to a nearby chair with the gun. Sark gladly took a seat, looking happy to be off his injured leg. I pulled the cell phone out of my pocket with my free hand, punching in Marshall's number.

"Yeah?" he asked, sounding frantic.

"Are you in the override system?" I asked.

"We're set, we just need the codes. It looks like there are two for each missile," Marshall relayed. "Have you got them?"

"Hang on," I replied, lowering the phone and looking over at Sark. "The first one." He relayed the codes to me and I gave them to Marshall, hearing him enter them into his computer as I did so.

"Come on, come on, come on," I could hear Marshall saying as soon as the last code was entered. I didn't know how much time was left before the launch, but I knew it couldn't be a lot. When I'd come into the room, it was ticking off the last couple of minutes. "Launch aborted!"

"Good work, Marshall," I heard Dixon say, sounding relieved.

"I'm going to find Sydney," I stated, hanging up the phone and returning my full attention to Sark.

"You know Derevko won't go down without a fight," Sark stated. "And I think you owe me at least a small amount of lenience for being willing to avert the apocalypse."

"And what guarantee do I have you're not going to start this up again once I leave this room?" I questioned.

"As I said, I have no taste for mass extermination," Sark replied, taking a breath and wincing as he tried to move his injured leg. "And while I realize you could simply shoot me and be done with it, that doesn't strike me as something that would suit your tastes either. Unless you want to remain in a stalemate while the woman you love is being attacked and possibly killed by her mother, I suggest you let me go."

"We're not through, you and me," I stated.

"Oh no, I suspect we'll have many more chances to play out these fascinating melodramas in the future," Sark said with a sarcastic grin. I lowered my gun and ran out of the room, heading for the stairs.

When I got to the upper level, I realized that the window had been broken out and that Sydney and Irina took their fight outside to the lower roof. At present, Irina was lying stretched across the glass skylight in the center of the roof, and Sydney stood off to the side.

I knew there had to be a safer way to get outside than through the broken window. I went back down the stairs, finding my way around to a stairwell that led up to the roof.

I opened the door just in time to hear the glass give way under Irina.

She fell through the skylight to the floor below – a good twenty-five feet. I knew there was no way she would have been able to survive, especially if she happened to land on any of the glass or the support beams built into the skylight.

I waited a moment before approaching Sydney. I could see the tears in her eyes and knew that, even at the last, she'd been trying to convince her mother to give up on Rambaldi. The Sphere of Life was on the floor near Irina, and I realized it had landed on the glass when the two of them went out the window.

Sydney turned to me, relieved to see that I was all right. I didn't say anything, instead going over beside where she stood and pulling her into my arms. She sighed, resting her head on my shoulder.

"It's over," I whispered after a moment. "It's all over."

**EPILOGUE**

"Daddy!" I glanced up from the mess of kitchen gadgets that Sydney had managed to cram into a very small drawer, seeing Isabelle outside. She'd insisted on going outside to play before dinner. I could hardly resist the temptation myself – living on the beach definitely had its advantages. I stepped outside onto the porch, seeing Dixon hiking up the sand towards the house. "Uncle Dixon!"

"Isabelle!" Dixon greeted, gladly scooping the bubbly six-year-old into his arms as she ran to meet him. "How are you, sweetie?"

"Deputy Director," I greeted him with a nod, smiling a little at the title. His promotion went through six months ago, and he was now head of most of the CIA operations at Langley.

"Please," Dixon protested. "This far from Langley you can just call me 'Sir'," he joked. He set Isabelle down, greeting me with a hug.

"Good to see you," I said. "Have a hard time finding this place?"

"What, are you kidding? I had an _impossible _time finding this place," Dixon retorted. I laughed.

"Well, I guess that's sort of the point," I said.

"Hello, stranger." I turned to see Sydney step out onto the patio, obviously informed of Dixon's arrival by Isabelle, who had disappeared inside the house in search of anyone else she could spread the word to. I smiled at Sydney, who shifted a little to keep the baby positioned on her hip.

"Hello, Sydney," Dixon greeted. He looked over at the baby. "Ah. And this must be…"

"Jack," Sydney replied.

"I keep telling her that I am far too young to have a grandchild named after me," her father's voice rung out from inside. He poked his head outside. "But of course she won't listen to a word _I _say."

"Well, you were there when we put the name on the birth certificate and you didn't complain, so…" I shrugged a little, smiling at Jack. He nodded.

"Yes, and I have seen the error of my ways." He grinned, ducking back inside.

"Hello, Jack," Dixon said to Sydney's father. "And, hello Jack," he added to the baby. "Marshall sends his best. He wanted to tag along, but Carrie's stuck at home on bed rest."

"Another baby?" Sydney asked. "Oh, god, I don't know how she does it."

"This makes four. All boys," Dixon threw in with a shrug.

"Well, come on inside. You'll just have to pardon the mess," Sydney said, moving our group back towards the doorway. "And the fact that my Dad insists on trying to cook."

"I do know how to cook, thank you," Jack shouted from the kitchen.

"Speaking of mess, didn't someone promise to finish unpacking her toys before dinner?" I asked Isabelle, seeing that she'd stopped by the couch now that the whole house had been alerted to Dixon's presence. "Go on."  
"Go on, Isabelle," Sydney added. "Can I get you something to drink?" she asked Dixon.

"Sure," Dixon said, taking a seat on the couch.

"I made some lemonade earlier," Sydney replied. She ventured off towards the kitchen. "Dad, seriously, it's not going to cook any faster if you stand there and stare at it. Here." She handed the baby off to her father. "This should keep you busy."

"Indeed," Jack agreed, taking his grandson back towards the nursery. Sydney grabbed a few glasses and the pitcher, coming back out into the living room. I took a seat on the couch opposite Dixon, Sydney taking her place next to me.

"Why do I get the feeling this isn't a purely social call?" she asked as she poured drinks for the three of us.

"Truth be told, I could use some… Assistance," Dixon said after a moment. "A merc team hit the National Research Facility in Paris yesterday." He handed a manila folder over the coffee table to Sydney and I. "I need someone to intercept the seller and retrieve the hard drive."

"Can't you put Rachel on it?" Sydney asked.

"She's in deep cover assignment in Santiago, I can't risk pulling her," Dixon replied with a shrug. It had been this way several times over the last few years. Even though Sydney and I had both quit the Agency, Dixon would often come to us as 'independent' contacts and request our help with missions. He always insisted it was because we were such good agents and he could trust us. "Besides, this job has sentimental value."

Sydney opened the folder. Along with the mission specs and some background Intel on what had been stolen, there was a picture of one of the men that was involved with the heist.

"Sark," I stated, shaking my head a little. _Why am I not surprised?_ I added silently, looking over at Sydney and thinking about the last time we'd seen him in Hong Kong all those years ago.

"Don't look at me, you're the one that let him go," she replied with a shrug. I just shook my head a little. I knew it hadn't been the best idea, but he was right – I wasn't going to just kill him either.

"We've already prepared the mission specs. Low-risk insertion, simple alias," Dixon explained, shrugging a little. "Who knows? Could be fun."

"That's what you say every time you show up on my doorstep," Sydney replied, setting the folder down. "The next thing you know, I'm jumping over canals in three-inch heels while Napalm explodes around me."

"Yes. That's how I _define _'fun'," Dixon replied with a shrug. I just watched the two of them for a moment, thinking back on everything that had happened. How close I came to completely missing all of this. I still wasn't a big believer in fate or any of that, but there was definitely a part of me that knew some higher power had to be involved in all of this. Either that, or I was the luckiest guy in the entire world.

Hell, maybe it was some of both.

"Why don't we finish this conversation after dinner?" I suggested.

"And you haven't lived until you've seen our sunset," Sydney added. She smiled, getting up off the couch and going back to find her dad and the baby. "Hey, Isabelle? Isabelle, come on, we're going for a walk."

Jack emerged a moment later, handing the baby back off to Sydney and darting into the kitchen once more to make sure dinner would be all right until we came back. Dixon and Sydney had made their way to the porch before Isabelle came running out of her room.

"Hey, what have you been doing back there?" Sydney asked.

"Nothing, Mommy," she replied, darting outside and onto the sand.

"Just wait until she starts dating," Jack threw in, smiling a little at his daughter. "Or getting married."

"Come on, it wasn't _that _bad," Sydney joked. "I only saw you crying once."

"Yes, and the rest of us missed it, and you will never hear the end of it," Dixon threw in.

"I still have no idea what you're talking about," Jack said, grinning at Sydney and leading the way off the porch and down onto the sand. Sydney took a moment, looking back at the house. Finally, she followed the rest of us down onto the beach.

"You okay?" I asked her. She smiled, nodding happily.

"Yeah," she assured me. "I'm good."

**THE END**


End file.
